Masquerade
by Keitoz
Summary: A dark prince lurking in the shadows finds himself drawn to what seems to be the very essence of happiness and sunlight in human form: Inoue Orihime. Captured by Ulquiorra, she soon discovers that there are many secrets hidden behind his mask and within the hotel Las Noches. Can she lift his curse in time? "For who could ever learn to love a beast?" UlquiHime. NnoiNel. Slight AU
1. Prelude

**Rated M for blood/gore, swearing, and sexual themes/scenes.  
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**This fic is a semi-AU. Meaning you will find plenty of familiar scenes and ideas here that relate to the canon Bleach series.**

**Disclaimer - This will be the only time I write this and it will apply to all chapters from now on: Bleach is Kubo Tite's creation.**

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Inoue Orihime watched her reflection in the mirror as she twirled in her cerulean gown. Layers of fabric and lace floated in the air around her slender ankles as she spun, her brilliant auburn hair surrounding her like a halo and framing her well-endowed chest and heart-shaped face. The hem and every edge of her azure dress were decorated with myriads of complicated, beautiful white lace. A crystal necklace that contained the colors of the rainbow at every facet glistened in the dim room and traced the curves of her collarbone. Her cobalt heels that adorned the intricate lace of Victorian times tapped lightly against the hard floor as she spun, her hair billowing like fire behind her.

The girl closed her eyes and sighed softly, picking up a small brush to comb her unruly waves hair. Satisfied that her hair had been tamed, she placed her brush back on the dresser. With delicate, gloved fingers, she reached for her mask.

It was a simple disguise: a porcelain mask painted with a gradient of violet and blue to match her dress. Embezzled around the eyes were feathers that ranged from scarlet red to the orange of the sunset and many small crystals to accentuate her silver eyes. The mask would only hide her eyes, exposing her small nose and full lips.

Orihime fitted her mask on properly and tucked free strands of caramel-brown hair behind her ear. Turning once more, she faced the orange-haired boy who had been watching her in awe the whole time.

"Ready, Kurosaki-kun?" Ichigo could see her eyes crinkling behind her mask as she beamed at him.

Her white knight was clad in a white tuxedo complete with a black bowtie, a crimson rose tucked in its pocket with a gold chain of an expensive pocket watch dangling over the edge. His mask was eerie and sinister, covering his entire face and obscuring his real smile under the mask's grin that stretched from ear to ear. It was purely white except for the scarlet lines that ran horizontally across, like many scars from a battle. The eye holes were slanted menacingly to reveal the dark brown eyes of a strawberry-haired boy.

Ichigo nodded to her silently and watched the girl skip over to him to slip an arm through his innocently. Her smile was blinding despite her face being partially obscured by her amethyst mask. Underneath his mask, Ichigo returned a small smile in which Orihime couldn't see.

Arm in arm, they strode to the cab that waited for them outside the apartment.

…

Upon entrance to the grand hotel ballroom, Orihime released her hold on Ichigo's arm and ran through the crowd in excitement. A smile stretched across her small, pale face as she glided across the marble floor. She looked up at the ceiling to admire the large crystalline chandeliers that decorated the ceilings of the large room, casting diamonds of pure light and color upon the white marble floors and black walls. Despite the myriads of crystal chandeliers and candle arrangements on the tables, the ballroom was dark creating a romantic atmosphere.

Ichigo shoved his hands in his pockets and chuckled as he watched the girl frolic amongst the crowds of people. Sauntering past couples clad in their large gowns and fancy tuxedos, he met with the auburn-haired girl, fiery strands whipping past and around her face as she twirled happily around the ballroom.

The white knight scanned his surroundings, his eyes settling on the orchestra that was currently tuning in to play their first piece of the night. Finally, he found the girl he had been searching for playing a note on her violin for the orchestra to tune to. Her short black hair was straightened, giving her a more feminine and mature look. Her small figure was accentuated by her curve-fitting, black dress that loosened near the bottom and flowed like clouds at her feet.

Placing a hand on the girl's shoulder to halt her in her steps, he turned to her, "Hey, the orchestra is getting ready to play. Wanna dance with me, Inoue?"

Despite how unromantic Ichigo was being, Orihime felt her heart swell and her body become weaker from his touch.

Here she was at this magnificent masquerade ball with the boy she was in love with. She would have never been gifted this opportunity if it weren't for Kuchiki Rukia and her brother Kuchiki Byakuya. The dark-haired siblings were well-known for their old wealth and deep family bonds and it was a lucky coincidence that Ichigo stumbled upon Rukia at a random outing and they quickly became close friends.

Orihime nodded enthusiastically to his proposal and took his hand. Bashfully, he laughed as she tugged him towards the dance floor. Somehow, in the midst of her excitement, she stepped on the hem of her gown and tripped and collided with the floor. Multitudes of people surrounding her halted in their movements and conversations to stare at her with concern.

"Inoue! Are you alright?"

"Oww…," she sat up and rubbed a hand behind her head to soothe the throbbing concussion she received. Feeling heat rise to her face, she laughed awkwardly, "Yes, I'm fine, Kurosaki-kun. Thank you."

He gave her a hand to help her up and she took it. Aware now that he was holding her hand, her face turned bright red under her mask and she withdrew her hand from his.

"Ahh... thank you," she muttered shyly, ignoring all the stares of concerned people who had witnessed the event. She averted her gaze and began to pat her dress free of dirt and wrinkles,

"Goodness, I'm such a clutz!" she patted a fist to her temple, smiled timidly, and gave Ichigo an apologetic look.

Noticing Ichigo had become suddenly silent, she opened her eyes to look at him, but his eyes were not directed towards her. Turning her head to see what had his attention, her silver eyes fixated upon the amethyst eyes of Kuchiki Rukia herself, though Rukia's eyes gazed through her as if she were invisible, locking onto Ichigo's brown eyes.

She was wearing a beautiful, expensive ebony dress that had a violet sheen to it. Her lace gloves exposed her tiny, delicate fingers and wove up past her elbows. However, what really caught Orihime's attention was her vertical, crescent-shaped mask that only concealed half of her face. It was a gentle hue of sky blue, decorated with beads of diamonds and sapphires and lovely, complicated acrylic paint patterns that resembled rain. Large, violet orbs peered softly right at Ichigo, a captivating smile plastered on her face.

Orihime was caught in between the two. She sensed the air around her grow stale with awkwardness and her heart lurched forward in pain. Her rapidly beating heart only made the pulsating headache much worse. She tugged on Ichigo's sleeve to distract him.

"Umm, I'm going to sit down. My head is killing me," she giggled awkwardly. She didn't bother to hear him respond.

Pushing past Ichigo, she kept her head bowed to avoid the curious stares of strangers. A melody began to play from the orchestra behind her as she walked, her heels tapping sharply against the pavement.

'_Is he here for Kuchiki-san_?' she tried to shut her eyes from the pessimism that threatened to consume her, '_They are friends after all_.'

Orihime felt her heart squeeze in pain once more in synchronization with the pounding of her head. She brought a gloved hand to the area above her breast to calm the twinge of jealousy burning in her heart.

…

In the shadows lurked a dark figure clad in a black tuxedo. Long coattails swished behind him as he weaved through the crowd to find a better view of the girl who, the whispers rumored, had the sun in her hair and the beauty of a goddess.

'_Trash_," he mused to himself, '_Why must they overreact over the smallest things? It's quite annoying_."

Concealing his presence with the crowd, his green eyes scanned across the room and fell upon the rumored girl. Pausing in his step, his dark coattails lightly patted against his ankles as he observed her from the shadows through the slits of his own mask. She walked to an empty table and sat down, her sad, silver eyes reflecting the candles of the table's centerpiece. Her crimson-brown hair glistened faintly in the dim room and cascaded down the curves of her back and shoulders, blue pins keeping the wild strands from obscuring his view of her pale cheeks.

His frown deepened. Humans had disappointed him once again.

'_She's also trash_,' he concluded, but continued to watch her nonetheless.

He was captivated by her eyes that were sheltered by a mask that seemed to adorn the colors of the sky at dawn. Not only did her eyes hold the image of the flickering blue embers of the candles around her, but they held a sense of dignity and strength despite the beautiful, sad smile that was carved into her features. He observed the way her feeble fingers combed through her hair, tucking loose strands behind her ear, and the way her natural, pink lips parted to let out a quiet sigh.

The girl's blank stare shifted to her orange-haired companion who had called out to her from a distance holding Kuchiki Rukia's hand. The eyes behind her mask turned into an expression of longing and dejection.

'_I see_,' he calculated, '_Unrequited love_.'

A flame began to erupt inside him, licking at his empty heart as his hunger for her grew. This craving was much different than his past experiences. Looking at the girl, he realized that she did have potential. It was evident in her strong eyes, her gentle hands, her quiet mannerisms, and her soft voice as she responded to the boy in white. She had something humans rarely had nowadays.

A pure soul.

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**I hope you enjoyed it so far! Yes, this is still slightly AU. You will see what I mean later~**  
**If you like it so far please leave a review!**  
**Also if you like my writing style, feel free to check out my other work**


	2. Act 1 - Set 2

**Welcome to Set 1 - Stage 2 of Masquerade!**  
**I highly suggest you guys to listen to some music while you read this! Fortunately it's the instrumental soundtrack of Madoka Magika (which I do not own) so it's pretty nice background music~**  
**Please leave a review on the way out! Enjoy!**

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"Kurosaki-kun! Look at all this food!" Orihime skipped, as fast as her dress would allow her, to the location she was pointing at. Sauntering over to meet Orihime, Ichigo's ochre eyes fell upon the rows of tables festooned with exotic foods and delicacies.

"Try this, try this!" she chirped enthusiastically, shoving a plate of pie towards him. She had already begun to help herself at the buffet, her own plate filled to the brim with desserts.

"Inoue, shouldn't you be eating entrees before the dessert? And your dress is going to get dirty," Ichigo took the pie from her, worried that she would spill something if she didn't have her other hand.

"Nonsense, Kurosaki-kun! What you do is gather all the food you like and eat it a— ack!" Orihime dropped her full plate of dessert onto the floor with a loud crash, turning the masked heads of many people nearby.

Ichigo muffled a sigh behind his mask and bent over to help her pick up the soiled food from the floor and stack it back on her plate to throw away, "You really should be more careful, Inoue."

"Ah, sorry, sorry!" she perked up as she picked up the remnants. She looked at Ichigo to read his expression, but it was fully hidden beneath his frightful mask. She was glad her mask slightly hid her rosy cheeks.

She snapped her eyes shut and mentally kicked herself. '_Why am I so clumsy_…? _I'm only embarrassing Ichigo so far!_"

"Oh? Orihime-san? Did you drop something?"

The auburn-haired girl opened her eyes slowly in response to the voice. In Orihime's peripheral vision, she saw what she thought was the silver lining of clouds, but looking up, she realized it was only Rukia's gorgeous dress. Immediately, heat rushed to her face in embarrassment.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry Kuchiki-san!"

"Don't worry about it, Orihime-san," she gave the auburn-haired girl a wide smile, "Don't bother with that mess. You'll ruin your dress! I will have a butler come clean that up for you."

"Thank you, Kuchiki-san…," Orihime giggled awkwardly as she stood up, "You have a really grand ball here by the way! Thank you so much for inviting me." She bowed politely to her.

"Don't be so shy, Orihime-san! You're my friend too!"

Orihime heard Ichigo snort unceremoniously behind her. He wasn't fooled by Rukia's perky persona. Rukia's eye twitched in annoyance and she jumped over to Ichigo to punch him on the side of his face, avoiding his mask.

"What the hell? What's the matter with you?!" he towered over the petite girl to yell at her, his booming voice muffled by his mask.

"Oops! My hand slipped!" she laughed mischievously, covering her mouth slyly with a lace glove as she laughed heartily.

"Should an aristocrat like you be so evil?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Kurosaki-kun," she sang in retort.

As they bickered, Orihime glanced down at her dress and her expression turned to one of horror. A smear of raspberry jam from a tart had caked onto her dress, right in between her breasts.

"Oh no…," Orihime's quiet voice caught the attention of Rukia and Ichigo.

"Oh!" Upon seeing the stain, Rukia skipped over her to console her. She placed a tiny finger to her lips as she contemplated the issue, "Well, I think you should try to wash it off. The restroom is right around that corner!"

Orihime's spirit wilted. She was wasting her chance to spend time with Ichigo, but she definitely didn't want to go prancing around with food on her nice dress.

"W-well, alright then," she hesitated before stepping away, looking at Ichigo, but he had already gone back to teasing Rukia.

Silently, she turned and headed to the direction Rukia pointed at. Keeping a hand to her chest to cover the ugly smudge of red on her cerulean dress, she pushed past strangers in colorful masks.

The orchestra had already begun to play another piece in which Orihime had recognized to be '_Decretum_' by _Yuki Kajiura_. At first it was a soft trio of the glockenspiel and two guitars and then the violins were introduced; a mellow harmony of strings darkening Orihime's mood. Glancing behind her to where she last saw Ichigo and Rukia, she felt her chest squeeze in pain as she caught them shamelessly flirting in public.

_This wasn't how it was supposed to be_…

She lowered her hands and gripped her dress tightly, fighting back the tears as she walked.

The musicians had quieted their melody as the crowd around her halted their conversations and resulted to hushed whispers. Orihime slowed her pace and then turned around to see what the commotion was.

Kuchiki Rukia, in her splendid ebony dress that harbored the colors of stormy clouds, was walking up the stage steps and to the podium to officially welcome the guests. An air of maturity, elegance, and strength wafted around her as her large, glistening amethyst eyes scanned the large crowd beneath her. Despite half her smile being smothered by her mask, her teeth gleamed in the dim room as bright as the sun.

Orihime felt jealousy stir within her.

Rukia was strong, rich, powerful, and so very smart while Orihime was just some plain girl with a ditzy personality, barely able to feed herself after her brother's death.

"Good evening everyone!" the petite girl perked up with a booming voice, contrary to her stature, "Thank you very much for attending the Kuchiki's 104th Annual Masquerade. It's wonderful how all of you continue to support us and our humble tradition… This, of course, would not have been made possible without Ulquio…"

She continued to speak, starting from the origin of the masquerade and other things, but Orihime was drowning further into self-pity as she listened to every word spoken from the feminine, light voice of Rukia. Deliberately numbing her senses to refrain from hurting herself even more, she turned around once more and headed to the restroom where she could be alone.

…

Even the restroom looked rich and elegant. Every surface was made of a creamy-gold marble, carved pillars and matching statues resembled designs from ancient Rome, and muted lamps emitted an ambient mood that dimly lit expensive-looking, faded paintings.

Stepping up to the sink, Orihime stared into her reflection, directly and angrily at the smudge of jam wedged in between her breasts. She spent a few minutes trying to rub off the eyesore and after successfully doing so, she turned off the golden sink. With a long, drawn-out sigh, she lifted her head up to look at the gray-eyed girl crying in front of her and watched as her tears streamed behind her beautiful, dark mask.

'_Why am I crying_?'

This feeling of hopelessness, this wasn't like her, but in a way, it was. She had been wearing a mask every day of her life. Her smile, her twinkling eyes, and bloated mouth whenever she stuffed a donut into her mouth; they were all lies. Not for others, but for herself. Every day when she knew no one could see her, her smile would tilt downwards and her soul would flood with sadness. She missed her brother. Although Tatsuki was helping her out a lot, she still spent many cold nights alone in her bed and experienced many holidays watching families around her bond merrily.

Orihime stepped away from the sink and snatched the hand towel from its rack to dry her hands and lightly dab at her face. She leaned against the wall and listened half-heartedly to the low rumbling voice from the other room of who, she supposed, belonged to was Kuchiki Byakuya. Suddenly, all noise from the other room stopped and then a flooding sound of applause echoed into Orihime's ears like rain. Music soon took after. The dismal key from the last song had been lifted into something less sober and became light-hearted instead, the stringy sounds of violins seeped into the restroom through its open door.

Curiously, Orihime stepped out of the restroom, already feeling her dreary mood lifting along with the fluttery notes of the song. Now excited, she ran towards the main room, looking forward to frolicking and dancing with the violin's melody. All feelings of depression had dissipated and she wanted nothing more than to lose herself within the happiness of other people. She had trouble pushing through the thick line of people to get to the center, but she froze in her step as she saw something that almost made her knees buckle.

The large mass of partygoers had made way for the dancing couple in the center, watching and cooing in awe as a boy and Rukia swayed together, their feet tapping and scraping against the hard floor, and the mysteriousness of the boy's identity hidden behind an eerie mask giving an air of excitement. As if Rukia were dancing with a beast.

A beast she loved.

Orihime tore her eyes away from the scene, her heart tearing into pieces as she ran up a long flight of stairs with a velvet runner. The sound of cheerful violins faded into the background the further she evaded reality.

'_I wanted to dance with Kurosaki-kun_,' she cried soundlessly, '_Is it selfish of me to feel this way_?'

Fiery hair flowed behind her as she ran towards her unknown destination, but she didn't care. She just wanted to get out.

Most of all, she wanted to take her mask off.

Brushing past a wave of long velvet curtains, she stepped out into a clearing of what seemed to be a balcony overlooking the busy city streets two floors below her. The bitter winter wind ate at her moist face and raised the small hairs of the back of her neck up. Running to the edge of the balcony, she gripped the marble frame and let out a heart-wrenching sob, her tears flowing endlessly and dripping onto her gloved hands.

Frustration, hopelessness, weak… this was Inoue Orihime at her lowest.

Suddenly, the darkness behind Orihime's eyelids intensified as a shadow blocked any light that spilled through the curtains from the ballroom. Orihime slowly lifted her head and turned around to face the doorway, tears still streaming down her face unrestrained, and gasped loudly as her eyes met with the cold, viridian eyes of a masked dark-haired boy.

"Who…"

Those bright, toxic green eyes that glowed against the light belonged to a boy not much taller than her; midnight-black hair loosely brushed his shoulders and framed his mask, giving him a dark aura. His façade looked similar to hers in only covering his eyes and rounding right above his cheekbone except it was pearl-white and had green tear streaks running from the slits of the eye holes to disappear under the rim and it had a single horn protruding from the top. He was dressed in an tuxedo as dark as his hair, but no flower was tucked in his pocket and his coat had long, flowing coat tails that drifted slightly behind him as the wind played with it. His slender arms disappeared into the pockets of his trousers, but his shoulders were broad with strength and confidence.

Everything about him was dark except for his pale skin and his ghostly-white facade. Especially his emerald green eyes that blazed dully behind the slits of his crying mask. Orihime could feel a sad, but melancholy vibe radiate from the boy, his frowning black lips only adding to his impression.

"How pathetic," he leered. She saw his green eyes squint at her from behind his mask.

'_This certainly will not do'_, he mused.

He refused to claim a weak soul. He had been watching her this whole time, observing how her strong-willed nature had suddenly fractured into the mess that she was now. Yes, he had found a pure heart, but she had lost her appeal when he saw the way she acted around Kuchiki Rukia's boy. Why humans had to destroy themselves for another being was beyond his comprehension. It was utterly ridiculous.

"Who are you?" she repeated, her voice shaky with. She felt fear shivering in her weak limbs and adrenaline pumping through her veins as she felt his dark presence suffocate her.

"Come with me, _onna_."

She watched as he removed a white-gloved hand from his pocket and turn his palm upwards for her to take. Orihime peered up from his hand and curiously gazed into his eyes once more. Unable to find the answers in those viridian pools, she hesitated.

She didn't know how her clenched fist had unwound itself. She didn't understand how she was allowing her hand to raise gently upwards through the stale air towards the stranger. She couldn't comprehend the blanket of emptiness that covered over her when she placed her palm in his nor the way her heart skipped a beat when he pulled her closer to him.

Silently, he held her hand, his touch barely being the pressure of a feather against her skin, as he tugged her to follow him back into the building.

"Where are you taking me?" she asked anxiously while they walked, but his lean back was facing towards her. _What if he's a rapist_? She fussed.

The boy didn't respond despite being aware that he did look awfully suspicious.

"Hello?"

"Cease the meaningless chatter, _onna_. You will understand when we arrive."

She bit her tongue in frustration, but was able to relax a little bit more nonetheless. Surely she could take the boy on herself if something happened, right? He didn't _look_ that strong.

"Cover your eyes."

"H-huh?" _Oh boy_.

He swiftly turned his head around to glare at her and barked, "I said cover your eyes, onna."

Orihime suppressed a squeak and shut her eyes to fulfill his demand. Though he was being highly suspicious, she couldn't get herself to fear him. Whether it be her strong will or her numb, broken heart that made her take his hand, she couldn't turn back now.

"Open them," he demanded not long after.

He watched as her eyes fluttered open through the slits of her mask, silver gray eyes that sparkled like stars between the colors of the night of her mask. It was then he realized that he was still holding her hand, so he quickly withdrew it and shoved it back into his pocket. Fortunately for him, the girl didn't notice.

Orihime gasped loudly as the scene unfolded in front of her. They were currently standing in an alcove that bordered the edge of the large ballroom that hovered over the dance floor. Dancing couples looked like flowers as they spun beneath her, the light was shining intensely since they were closer to the crystal chandeliers, and the echoing of the orchestra reverberated loudly against the walls, pulsating through her body.

The sight was absolutely beautiful. She could clearly see the colors of light being refracted through every facet of the chandeliers; immense pillars were guarded by large, marble gargoyles that rested on top, while long velvet curtains draped over them like a blanket. Everything about the room had antiquity, but it was genuine.

"Are we even allowed to be up here?" she hissed under her breath warily, but not removing her eyes from the sight.

"I am the owner of this estate. This hotel is mine," he said matter-of-factly as he stared down at the girl.

Orihime turned around to gape at him, "Wha— you?! You look like you're my age though!"

The masked boy was prepared for this moment. He had recited the same lines with every woman every time.

"I, too, come from a family of old money. My parents are deceased, hence I have received the right to their property," he lied.

"Ah… I see, I see," she mulled. _He does seem quite mature_…

"I'm...sorry about your parents," she mumbled, and averted her gaze slightly. She definitely understood what it felt like to have responsibility dumped onto her. Her own parents died when she was very young and her brother soon followed after.

"Must you humans make yourself seem so pitiful to express sympathy?" he deadpanned, "It was not your fault. You have no reason to apologize."

Orihime sighed. She also understood what the boy had meant. She had those same words of sympathy told to her all throughout her life and she never understood why people wasted their time pitying her and apologizing like it was their fault.

She looked back over the edge of the balcony, watching people laugh and frolic under their disguises. Admittedly, she was looking for the conspicuous orange hair of a certain boy, but she knew that she might also see a petite, black-haired girl hooked onto his arm in Orihime's place.

"So why did you bring me here, um…" she didn't know his name.

The boy ignored her uncertainty, "I wanted you… to cease that annoying screaming fit you were having earlier." He had no idea how to put it more nicely.

Orihime winced. She made a bad impression of herself again. At someone else's property to boot!

"About that... I'm sor—"

"Never mind that, onna," he turned sharply on his heel, his long coat tails swishing behind him as he stepped away from the balcony.

"Where are you going?" she called after him. She gripped her dress and pulled it higher to allow her feet to take larger steps.

He tilted his head back to look at her, not slowing his pace down. She felt the skin underneath her mask heat up as she watched those glowing, viridian orbs pierce through her.

"Dance with me."

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**Review please! I will update faster if you do~~**


	3. Act 1 - Set 3

**Thank you everyone for your reviews! It really inspired me to update in 2-3 days~**  
**What are the masked boy's intentions? Read on and you might find out!**

**Enjoy!**

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"_Little girl, little girl  
Why are you crying?_

_Inside your restless soul,  
Your heart is dying_"

"Dance with me."

"H-huh?" she sputtered.

"Judging by your behavior earlier, you gave me the impression that you desired to dance."

He was actually referring to the moment she had come running out of the restroom, but Orihime thought he was merely assuming it was the reason she was crying. Fortunately, the latter made Ulquiorra seem less like a stalker.

"Umm," it _was _true though.

The light duet of the glockenspiel and vibraphone caressed her ears, coaxing her feet to take feathery steps and entice her to dance with the somewhat cheerful, but sad music.

As they neared the stairs, the masked boy suddenly paused in his step, causing Orihime to nearly imprint her face into his back.

"Hold onto me, onna," he continued to demand.

At first, she blushed faintly due to his bluntness, but after processing his tone, Orihime puffed her cheeks up at him in irritation. If he was going to be rude to her like this, she saw no reason to hang out with him any longer.

"Quickly," he insisted.

_What a pushy person_! She sighed aloud, deciding to swallow her pride and comply to his wishes. It's not like she was going to be able to dance with Ichigo at this rate. Her heart still felt broken after seeing him dancing with Rukia. Though, in exchange…

"Tell me your name first," she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest defiantly.

She saw green orbs swivel to the side to look at her, "You will never see me again. It is meaningless to reveal my identity to you at a masquerade ball."

He did have a point.

Well if that were the case, Orihime supposed it would be acceptable to dance with a stranger just once. She felt a strange, dark forbidden exhilaration in the idea. Something about dancing with a handsome, masked, sophisticated youth intrigued her.

Reluctantly, she placed a gloved hand daintily on his elbow and then slipped it through the crook of his arm while his hands rested unmoving in his pocket. She felt heat rise to her face as she pulled herself closer to him.

_He's warm_.

Slowly, they placed one foot in front of the other in synch as they stepped down the stairs. As they neared the last flight of stairs, myriads of masked people ceased their idle conversations to crane their necks at the couple who descended down the stairs. People began to hush gossip and speculate them, causing more people to pause in their laughter and chatting to see what the commotion was.

"Isn't that _Ulquiorra_ Cifer?"

"Yes, that's his signature hairstyle!"

"Ahh, his coat tails too!"

"I heard he wears the same mask at every event. Are those _green tear streaks_? And a horn! How mysterious."

"Who is the girl beside him? Wasn't she the one that fell flat on her face earlier?"

Orihime felt blood rush to her face and settle in her ears. She lowered her head in shame upon hearing the crowd around her murmur and jeer at her antics. As they brushed past gorgeously-dressed women and well-mannered men, the crowd separated to give them way, whispering amongst themselves about the sudden appearance of the famous Ulquiorra Cifer.

'_Wait, his name is Ul..quiorra… Cifer_?' she took a few moments to mentally practice saying his name over and over again before addressing him.

"Keep your head up, onna. You will soil my reputation," he breathed lowly so that their audience wouldn't hear.

Orihime snapped her head up and gazed confidently in front of her, the images of strangers blurring into her peripheral vision. '_That's right! I came here to have fun and I will have it with or without Kurosaki-kun_!'

Puffing her cheeks up once more, she stuck her chin up higher, hoping she was giving off the same atmosphere Rukia emitted earlier. Though to Orihime's disappointment, due to the achingly slow pace they were going to make a greater impression on the people around her, the song she wanted to dance to ended.

"Is it true that Cifer-san has never been seen without his mask?" a certain rumor piqued Orihime's interest as she passed an unfamiliar guest.

"Oh yeah! I bet he's really handsome… No one has seen him anywhere else other than…," the responder's voice faded away into the background as a new song overlapped her sentence. Orihime kept walking, her arm in the subject of everyone's eyes.

"Ul…quiorra…?" she tested mumbling his name, rolling the r's with her little tongue. It was a strange taste having his name on her tongue. One barrier had been broken between them. She finally got to know his name and it definitely made him seem more elegant and refined. She wondered what country he was from…

He shifted his eyes down to look at her silently in response as they walked to the center of the room.

"Is that… true? You never take your mask off in public?" She looked up at him quizzically, silver swimming with curiosity in her eyes.

His green eyes swiveled forward to his destination, "Never. Not even in private."

Suddenly, a vision of the notorious Ulquiorra Cifer shopping with a fancy, blank mask at the local grocery store popped into her imagination and she barely stifled a laugh. Her face contorted strangely as she attempted to hinder the ongoing visions of him going through every day activities with a mask on.

"How do you find that amusing?" he inquired plainly without looking at her.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," she covered her mouth delicately to help muffle her giggle. She knew she should be behaving, but she always thought this Ulquiorra guy was a bit too serious, "I just imagined how you do your daily things with a mask on... Like pooping!"

Ulquiorra's eye twitched as she added the last part, "I have subordinates to take care of my errands."

"I see!" she chirped, the edges of her eyes crinkling as she smiled. She decided to not press on the subject knowing he must have some reason to hide his identity. '_Must be a celebrity thing_,' she mused.

Ulquiorra glanced at her and felt his cold heart pulse once throughout his body almost painfully. He visibly shuddered, wondering what had just happened.

He felt he needed to satisfy his craving. _And soon_.

Upon reaching the center, the crowd had dispersed to form a circle around them. People swayed in their spot in an attempt to find a better view of Ulquiorra and Orihime as they made their grand entrance. This included a particular strawberry-head and short-haired girl.

Ulquiorra removed his hand from his pocket and motioned Orihime to stay where she was as he stepped a few steps back, his expression blank behind his mask.

"Ah! Wait, Ulquiorra!" Orihime's face underneath her midnight mask heated up in nervousness. Her heart beat rapidly and loudly in her chest, "I don't know how to dance…" she admitted.

Ulquiorra continued to stare at her. The girl appeared to be excited to dance not long ago and now she was hesitating. He watched as she fidgeted anxiously in front of him having to bear the weight of hundreds of pairs of eyes scrutinizing her. He sighed internally.

"Just follow my lead, onna."

She nodded marginally and took a deep breath, avoiding the stares of her observers. Orihime just wanted to dance. She didn't expect the whole room to be watching her!

A twinkling of bells started to play a mellow melody along with the grand piano and a small choir of angelic voices. _''Ice' by Yuki Kajiura'_, Orihime thought to herself. Her heart squeezed with the rush of adrenaline. It was the perfect song.

Her green-eyed companion held out his gloved hand to her, his eyes dull without emotion. Orihime took it without hesitation, her silver eyes never leaving the emeralds behind his mask. Politely, she held her dress in one hand and bowed as he did in return, his arm tucked under his chest as he bent over. He pulled her body close to his, their lips only a few inches apart, and wrapped an arm around her waist to place his hand at the small of her back. His breath tickled her lips as her caramel-brown hair swayed behind her from the sudden movement.

Orihime's eyes widened under her mask and her heart started to beat at an unnatural rate. She feared for a moment that she would faint.

Raising the hand that held hers up to her shoulder, his gaze softened as he sighed between parted black lips as she continued to look into his eyes in pure awe. Tenderly, he took the first step forward and the girl complied with his silent initiation. As he stepped forward, she stepped back. When the gloved hand left her back, she twirled gracefully in response only to return to the arms of the stranger who caught her with care and kindness. Hand in hand, they continued to dance and spin, their image reflected in the enchanted eyes of the party's participants.

Orihime's eyes never left his; feeling trapped within those cold, viridian eyes. Once again, his hand left her back and she twirled outwards, her other hand still in his, and spun inwards to lean against his chest. With her back against his chest, she tilted her head up, relishing in the feeling of his warm, hard chest that harbored his beating heart. Looking into his eyes, a blanket of sorrow and loneliness covered her, choking her and yet intensifying the moment. Her consort continued to step to the rhythm of the music with her in his arms, his ebony hair occasionally brushing against locks of gold and scarlet and tickling her ears.

They continued to sway together, savoring the sound of each other's quiet, labored breathing, and relishing in the warmth that radiated from their bodies as they moved in synch. They seemed to be talking without speaking, their bodies understanding each other, predicting the next move flawlessly. It was beautiful and tragic to see two strangers rendezvousing on the dance floor, aware of the inevitable fate that they will never see past the masks that hid their identity.

As Orihime smiled widely at him, the music dwindled quietly to the duet of guitars and vibraphone. Ulquiorra continued to look at her steadily and coolly, but deep in his own soul, he felt the embers of an old fire blaze anew. Despite his stoic face, he was shocked to feel this forbidden sensation and knowing that the girl was the cause of it made him even more bewildered. He had enraptured many women before, but this girl was unlike any other.

The reentrance of the violin spurred up the climax of the song and Ulquiorra took this moment to grab her hand and spin her around once more. A flurry of black coat tails and the lacy hem of cerulean silk skimmed across the marble floors as they moved. The dim light of the room casted a mysterious shadow on their face, yet Orihime's fiery hair glowed like fire under the ambient lighting.

In the crowd, Ichigo and Rukia watched with tense muscles as Ulquiorra put Orihime under his spell.

"Rukia…" Ichigo gritted his teeth and clenched his hand into a fist in his pocket.

Rukia placed a consoling hand on his shoulder, "I know, Ichigo, but we can't do anything yet."

"What if he's going to—"

Rukia immediately moved her finger to the grinning lips of his mask to silence him. He relaxed under her touch and his brown eyes softened as he switched his gaze from Ulquiorra to her. Rukia blushed softly as his gaze suddenly made her feel self-aware. Unexpectedly, she kicked him right in his shin to quell the rapid beating of her heart. Ichigo cursed at her and hissed as he pulled his leg up to rub and soothe the pain.

"We won't let that happen," was all she said, ignoring Ichigo as he fumed. Rukia crossed her arms over her chest, "We just need to be more careful now."

…

"That was so fun!" Orihime skipped over to the edge of the balcony and spread her arms away from her body to feel the cold, wind rush through her. Dancing had made her feel hot and sweaty so she insisted dragging Ulquiorra outside with her.

"Say, Ulquiorra-kun…" she turned on her heel, hid her hands behind her back as she fidgeted, and averted her gaze as she blushed.

"I was wondering…," her face turned to an unnatural shade of red, "if we could be friends?"

Ulquiorra's eyes widened in surprise at her request, but quickly regained his composure. He stared at her with hard, green eyes, "Ridiculous. This is a masquerade, _onna_. We are never to see each other again," he paused for a moment and then continued, "When you refer to me, refer to me as Ulquiorra. Do not place me amongst your kind."

"Hai, hai, Ulquiorra," Orihime sang, nodding her head in comprehension. She was starting to get used to his harsh deliveries, but she couldn't help but wonder why Ulquiorra seemed to separate himself from humankind. She figured it was due to him being an elite.

The auburn-haired girl lifted her head to look at him. He was leaning against the balcony door, his hands in his pockets as he gazed into the endless landscape that lay in front of him. Before she could question herself why she was doing so, she took a few steps towards him. Ulquiorra fixated his hard stare on her glimmering, steel eyes, her creamy skin coated with an adorable blush.

Orihime untangled her hands from behind her back and reached up to place gentle fingers on his mask. She felt him flinch under her touch, but she didn't remove her hands and Ulquiorra remained unmoving along with his unreadable expression.

"I'm really curious…," she bit her lip as she slowly shifted his mask upward, but Ulquiorra smacked her hands away roughly with an arm.

"Don't touch me, onna," he spat. Ulquiorra shoved his hands back into his pockets and shut his eyes, closing his mind away from her beauty and the awful feeling scratching and bothering the pit of his abdomen.

Orihime rubbed her wrists distractedly even though she wasn't in pain.

'_Oh_!' her eyes lit up as a light bulb switched on in her brain.

"My name is not woman," she stated, peering at him with wide eyes, "My name is Inoue Orihime."

Ulquiorra opened his eyes again to look at her. He already knew her name. After all, he was the owner of the hotel and he had access to the guest list. Upon setting his eyes on her earlier, he had retrieved it, and with the help of his observational and critical thinking skills, he had eliminated all unlikely participants and found her name.

Ulquiorra parted his dark lips to speak, but was interrupted by the loud growling of Orihime's stomach. Orihime backed up and blushed profusely as she gripped at her noisy belly.

"You're hungry."

"Ahh ahh!" she whined as she flailed her hands around, flustered and embarrassed, "Well I didn't get to eat earlier…"

Ulquiorra leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes again, sighing in irritation. Women were such a handful, but he was sure this one would not disappoint him.

"Szayelaporro Granz," he called without moving or opening his eyes.

Immediately, from the shadows behind the curtains of the balcony door, a pink-haired man stepped out, a sadistic grin stretched from ear to ear. He wore no mask, unless you would count his glasses which seemed to be made out of bones. Half-lidded golden eyes glanced from Ulquiorra to Orihime and he smiled wider, baring his gleaming teeth. He was dressed in a white suit that clung to his skin, covering every inch of his body from his wrists to his neck.

Orihime was startled. She thought they were alone. Did he have people following him everywhere?

"Yes, Ulquiorra?" he inquired, his opal eyes not leaving Orihime's. She shifted her feet uncomfortably on the pavement underneath his sketchy stare.

"Fetch the girl some food and tell Grimmjow to retrieve a table and two seats for us," he ordered.

Szayel bowed politely to him and dismissed himself to execute his demands. Orihime watched as the pink-haired man disappeared inside the building, his suspicious aura following suit.

Before Orihime could speak, a spiky blue-haired man with a strong build carrying a small table on his shoulders and two chairs hanging from his other arm, stepped out of the darkness where Szayel had just disappeared into. To Orihime's surprise, he wasn't dressed formally, but was instead clad in a white tank top and some torn shorts. She assumed Grimmjow wasn't attending the party, but to Orihime's bewilderment, Grimmjow still had some sort of mask on: a gleaming, menacing jaw of a large feline fangs plastered onto a good fourth of his face.

"Oi, Ulquiorra. I brought your shit," he threw the 'shit' down unceremoniously, a loud clang echoed into the night as it hit the polished marble floor. Ulquiorra opened his eyes to glare at him.

Grimmjow turned to Orihime and examined her from head to toe, his head nodding in approval. Peering into her silver eyes, he grinned toothily and gave a hearty laugh.

"Oh man, Ulquiorra. You got a good one this time."

"I'd appreciate it if you didn't say any words that may instigate a misunderstanding, Grimmjow."

"Huh. Why haven't you…," he paused as he reexamined Orihime again through squinted eyes, "Why are you just having tea with her? Shouldn't you…"

"Leave," Ulquiorra bit out, letting anger seep into his tone. Grimmjow was going to ruin everything if he continued to run his mouth.

Grimmjow just shrugged and turned around to saunter back to wherever he had come from. After the surly guy had left, Ulquiorra pushed himself off the wall with his hands still in his pockets and motioned with his chin for Orihime to sit. Still in awe, she obeyed and sat down, placing her hands in her lap.

"Loly. Menoly," he called once more.

'_Geez, how many servants did this guy have. He can't possibly be _that _rich_…" Orihime fussed.

Two fraternal twins appeared this time, their black dresses similar to the Lolita style. A fragment of a mask covered one eye on each young face, leaving a fuchsia and azure eye to glare at Orihime. Though they looked to be the same age of Orihime, she felt intimidated by the black-haired girl who stared daggers at her. She shuddered underneath their scowl wondering why all of Ulquiorra's subordinates had some sort of dark vibe.

"Your tea," the blond-haired, blue-eyed one responded. She placed a tea set before Orihime and, to her delight, a tray full of delicacies. Orihime looked up at the black-haired twin questioningly, wondering what she was going to do.

"Why do you want me to serve that _human_," she sneered at Ulquiorra.

"You're dismissed," he deadpanned.

"Just—!"

Ulquiorra stepped up to her and merely shoved her roughly back inside. The black-haired girl squeaked in surprise, her sister gaping at Ulquiorra with wide, horrified eyes. The blonde stepped inside to help her sister steady her feet, her eyes looking fearfully at Ulquiorra. The pink-eyed girl glowered at Ulquiorra and bared her fangs at him, but Ulquiorra shut the doors on her before she could yell.

Orihime stared at Ulquiorra in shock. She figured he would be a rough person, but he treated his subordinates like… _trash_. Everything about Ulquiorra was shrouded in mystery and darkness and Orihime couldn't help, but wonder if she were dancing with the devil.

He gracefully pulled a chair out and seated himself, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"Eat," he ordered.

Orihime was still stunned to the point where she couldn't comprehend his orders right away. She had immediately lost her appetite.

"I'm not hungry," she said.

Ulquiorra silently cursed himself. He had unintentionally scared the girl and that mistake would cost him.

Reluctantly, he reached across the table and picked up what seemed to him to be a glazed donut and analyzed it at eye level. Looking past the treat, he could see Orihime's dull eyes had suddenly lit up in inquisitiveness, the silver of her eyes matching the clouds that bordered the moon above her.

He absolutely hated sweets, but he decided to endure it for now.

Orihime watched with wide eyes as Ulquiorra plopped the donut into his mouth and felt her mouth water.

"Do you like donuts?" she asked.

"…yes," Ulquiorra's frown deepened. He chewed very slowly and carefully to make sure he wouldn't spit it out on impulse. He was sure it wouldn't matter if he lied to her since he was going to—

"Oooh I _love_ donuts!" and just as Ulquiorra planned, she had grabbed her own and started to nibble on it happily. He wondered if she had completely forgotten what had happened a few minutes ago. The woman was too predictable.

"Especially ones filled with red bean paste and drizzled with chocolate on top… Ah! And a few sprinkles of course, but not too much because I like to dip my donuts in spicy mayonnaise and the sprinkles tend to cover the bittersweet taste of it. Oh, is this a Mille Crèpe? Wow! I've never had one of these before because they can be quite expensive. Wow… This is amazing! I want to compliment the chef!"

She continued to blabber and coo at the arrangement of treats Menoly had placed before her. Ulquiorra picked up his cup of tea and leaned back to drink it quietly while watching the girl stuff her mouth. Ulquiorra paid no mind to her aggravating nonsense. He remained as blank as a slate as ever, yet he couldn't deny that something had felt off.

The raven-haired boy decided to commit the dark deed now rather than continue to immerse himself in confusion every minute he spent with her. Whether the girl was prepared or not, his desire to suppress the scourge darkening his heart was surpassing his self-control.

When Orihime finished she patted her mouth free of crumbs and then rubbed her stomach, sighing contentedly. Noticing Ulquiorra was still watching her, she suddenly blushed in embarrassment, realizing how rude she was being.

"Thank you," she mumbled while shyly peering at him through her bangs.

He pushed his chair back and wandered to the edge of the balcony next to Orihime with his hands in his pockets. Orihime turned in her seat to look at him, admiring how lean and strong his figure looked from behind and the way the wind ran through his ebony hair, his coat tails slightly fluttering above the ground.

She got up from her chair and stood next to Ulquiorra, trying to see in the distance what he had been looking at, but all she saw was nothingness. The landscape that lay ahead of her was dark and unlit, though vast and empty.

Before she knew it, Ulquiorra had gripped her wrists and pulled her closer to him, pressing their bodies together and lowered his head down to graze his lips under her jaw. Underneath the moonlight, two masked silhouettes had merged into one.

Orihime inhaled sharply on feeling his cold lips come in contact with her heated skin. Her hands remained frozen in his grasp and she felt utterly speechless. Bright silver eyes stared past his head of raven-black hair into nothingness as her lips quivered in surprise. She felt his hands loosen their grip and his broad arms wrap around her waist, closing any space between them.

"I won't harm you," he breathed as his lips brushed against her skin with every word.

* * *

**Guess you won't find out just yet! But if I get lots of reviews, I will post the next chapter very, very soon! So please don't be shy!**

**Some of the Arrancars have been introduced! But that's not all of them~  
I have decided to extend the plot of this story since all of your reviews and encouragement were so inspiring. Thank you!  
**


	4. Act 1 - Set 4

"I won't harm you."

Orihime gasped loudly as she felt his canines graze against her neck delicately and then lower his head to nibble on her skin with his lips.

Ulquiorra did not understand what had overcome him. It was at this moment that he would plunge his gloved fingers into the woman's chest and extract her heart, leaving her to drown in her own pool of blood. But an overwhelming, unknown sensation had muted his cognitive abilities. He wanted her. That was without a doubt. Strangely, it wasn't the same greed that usually motivated him to commit the crime.

Normally, he wouldn't lie at this point. He had said he wouldn't hurt her, though his intentions were supporting the opposite. Perhaps he would try a different approach: instead of the usual vulgar strike, he would ravish her slowly. Just this once, he wanted to taste her pure heart fresh, still beating and alive against his lips. He wanted to savor every taste of her, relish in her scent, and indulge in the feeling of having her in his arms.

"Your heart."

Ulquiorra paused and leaned back to look at her.

"Your heart," she repeated, "It's beating really fast."

_The heart_…

Orihime flushed and leaned back in his arms.

"D-don't you think you're going a bit too fast?" she bit her lip and blinked at him with bashful eyes.

Ulquiorra released her and Orihime staggered back from the lack of support, but quickly regained her posture. She looked at him with wide eyes, the cold wind filling the emptiness Ulquiorra had made between them.

He couldn't do it.

Ulquiorra was utterly speechless. He couldn't get himself to kill her even though he had never wanted her heart so badly in his entire life. If anything, this girl had increased the emptiness in his heart making him thirst for something to fill it. Yet, why couldn't he kill her? Ironically, his intuition told him that this girl was the only one that had the potential to make the pain in his chest cease.

He glowered at her in the dark, the green ember in his eyes flickering wildly behind his mask. Orihime winced in fear, feeling the dark aura that he emitted grip her and threaten to bring her to her knees.

The girl looked no different from his past victims. If anything, she was too young, too innocent and naïve. So why couldn't he wipe off that foolish smile off her face for good and feast on her heart to temporarily quell growing abyss in his soul?

"Ah…," Orihime was at a loss for words.

Did he like her? No, she doubted that. They had only met a few hours ago. Maybe this is what strangers do at masquerade parties. Anonymous lust and secret meetings. It made sense right? She didn't want to stop being friends with Ulquiorra. Though he was awfully suspicious and he was shrouded in mystery, she found herself unable to look away from his intense green eyes. She was lured by his scent, his husky voice, and quiet, teasing demeanor. She decided to brush it off like it never happened and hopefully he would follow suit.

Noticing Ulquiorra had resulted back to staring at the endless landscape ahead of him, she stepped up to him and tugged on his sleeve with concern.

"Hey…," she mustered a smile, "Can we dance again? I know a song I want to dance to!"

He responded with silence.

"I mean, we don't have to dance in front of everyone this time…"

Ulquiorra swiveled his green eyes to her, lowering his brow in frustration.

'_Why does this girl have to exist_?'

She tugged harder, pulling him to the balcony door, "Come on!"

Hesitating, Ulquiorra allowed his feet to move and follow her. He was getting himself too deep with this girl. Fortunately, he lacked the heart to pity her and her inevitable fate.

…

"Like this?"

He nudged her foot an inch to the side as he held her hands, "It's necessary that you stand with grace and dignity."

Orihime pouted. She was pretty sure she had neither of that. Nonetheless, she stood up straight and lifted her chin.

Timidly, she stepped back and he stepped forward. Ulquiorra released one of her hands so that he could rest it on her thin waist. He watched Orihime flush as she placed her own palm on his shoulder. Together they swayed slightly from side to side amongst the other dancing couples that surrounded them.

Orihime started to blank out as she immersed herself in her thoughts. She thought it was really strange to be dancing with a stranger out of nowhere. She had come to the ball, expecting to dance with Ichigo, but here she was holding hands and being in the arms of a boy she barely knew. And she was content. So far she has managed to have fun thanks to Ulquiorra. That, and a new mystery had been presented to her and she swore that she would get to the bottom of it no matter how long it took her.

The song they were dancing to slowly died away as it transitioned into another one. A flurry of piano chords were played in a staccato manner during the introduction and then suddenly, the drums joined along with a chorus of female voices and some strings. It was jazzy and fast; totally different from the pieces the orchestra had been playing that night.

Intrigued, Orihime craned her head to watch the orchestra's musicians sway their heads mechanically to the upbeat rhythm, "Oh wow what is this song? It makes me want to just jump around!"

"_Kagaribito_ by 'millstones'," he answered. His gaze never left her face. Orihime paused in her swaying, feeling that their tempo was now obsolete with the new song genre.

"How do you dance to this?" she blinked twice at him.

Rather than answering verbally, he showed her. He grabbed her wrists and pulled away from her, still holding on. With light steps in time with the song, he danced with her, while Orihime clumsily adjusted to his feet. They twirled faster and more unrestrained, Orihime's orange-brown hair billowed around her as she spun and danced freely while holding his hand. Orihime couldn't hold back her laughter. She was having way too much fun dancing so freely and fast.

In her peripheral vision, she could see a turquoise-haired girl step up to the podium and begin to sing. Her light, soothing voice began slowly and coolly with a duet with the piano, but then the bass drum was reintroduced, stirring the upbeat melody of the song once more.

As the song reached its final note, Orihime crumpled onto his chest, gripping his shirt as she breathed heavily for air. She lifted her head up to look at him with a blinding smile. Ulquiorra only blinked at her, but made no move to push her off of him.

"That was really fun! Whoever was singing was really good! Oh, but she's gone now…" Orihime twisted her head from side to side to find the teal-haired girl in the crowd, but found nothing nearly as colorful except for beautifully decorated masks.

"You said you wanted to send your compliments to the chef," he stated.

Orihime nodded vigorously, "I guess I'll go to the kitchen and look for him or her?"

"Don't bother. I will summon him."

Orihime almost forgot the guy was an aristocrat with immense authority. He was only her age and yet he was on top of everything.

"Neliel."

A tall, busty and mature looking girl with flowing, wavy aqua hair jumped out from a group of people, her breasts bouncing as she landed. She was wearing a tight dress the same color as her hair. Her mask rested on top of her head and was the skull of some animal she couldn't name with two curled horns protruding from each side. She beamed at Orihime upon seeing her.

"Retrieve Nnoitra. This girl wants to compliment his… baking skills," he motioned to Orihime who was standing there awkwardly.

"Ay ay, Capitano!" she cheered as she skipped back inside.

It was when the girl had left that Orihime realized something.

"Oh! That's the girl that was singing that really fun song earlier! I want to thank her too…"

Ulquiorra didn't bother answering her. Not long after Nel had left, a very tall, skinny man presented himself before him. Just like the Menoly and Loly twins, he also had a fragment of a mask covering one of his eyes in the shape of an eye patch, leaving one exposed and beady violet eye to scowl at Ulquiorra. Orihime could tell this was the guy Ulquiorra had called 'Nnoitra' since he was wearing the traditional, white French chef outfit. Perched on his shoulder was Nel, his arm wrapped around her securely as he carried her.

"God, Ulquiorra, you know I can't stand Nel," he unceremoniously threw Nel to the side, but she landed on her feet gracefully, a goofy smile plastered on her face as she ignored Nnoitra. Nnoitra's scowl deepened as he fixed his toque.

"Nnoitra. Nel," he acknowledged, "This is Inoue Orihime. She would like to speak to you."

"Oh! Nice to meet you Orihime-chan!" the aqua-haired beauty grabbed her hands and shook them enthusiastically.

"Tch," Nnoitra made no move to greet her.

Satisfied that the introduction had been made, Ulquiorra decided to saunter elsewhere as Orihime chatted with his acquaintances. After walking a good distance away from the crowd, he leaned against the back of a large support pillar, the shadows cloaking him in darkness.

The ebony-haired boy had been cornered. He had consumed thousands of hearts: old, tainted, fresh, impure, but he had never put this much effort in for his dark hobby. Even though it was best when the soul was pure, untainted, and fresh, Ulquiorra was torn between taking Orihime's for himself and protecting it. And he couldn't understand why.

Was it her brilliant, cheerful smile? Her soft, high-pitched voice? Maybe it was the way her small, fragile hand seemed to fit perfectly in his. Or the way her kind and exuberant personality seemed to dispel all evil in an instant?

"Szayel," he sighed aloud.

On cue, the opal-eyed man stepped out from the shadows of a pillar next to his.

"Hmm? What's this?" Szayel slipped a slimy tongue out of his mouth and licked his lips in a disgusting manner. Ulquiorra remained stoic, "Our precious Ulquiorra needs help with la mademoiselle?"

"_Szayel_," he stressed his name. Ulquiorra wanted to waste no time. He felt the girl needed to be eradicated soon to put him out of his misery. He was serious.

"Alright, alright, Ulquiorra!" he waved his hands frantically upon sensing his dark mood. He reached into the pocket of his skin-tight, white suit and withdrew a small vial that contained a sort of violet liquid.

"This is Cantarella. One drop will put her to sleep for one hour," his voice diminished in volume, "Are you sure you want to do this? You won't be able to enjoy the way her face contorts and twists into expressions of fear and pain as you kill her."

"Disgusting," Ulquiorra snatched the vial from him and spun on his heel, his coat tails swishing behind him as he turned. Unlike Szayel, Ulquiorra did not like to torture his victims. The very thought of it was revolting.

"This is all I need. You're dismissed," he spoke as he continued to walk away.

"Save me a sample of her so I can find out why you haven't killed her yet!" his bright, yellow eyes shined in the dark as he jeered after him. But Ulquiorra was already out of sight.

…

"Thank you for coming!"

"No, thank _you_!"

"I look forward to our next meeting!"

Kuchiki Rukia had her hands full, literally, having to greet and pardon her guests left and right. A certain, impatient spiky-haired boy next to her sighed loudly.

"Geez, Rukia! What if–!" he complained.

"Calm down, Ichigo," she shook another hand before looking up at him, "We can sense her reiatsu. She's perfectly fine."

"Ugh, this is so lame," he grumbled. Apparently it was his job to look like Kuchiki Rukia's handsome, proper escort tonight. Unfortunately, this meant he couldn't leave her side at any time. Not like he couldn't stand her, but his annoying hero complex was nagging at him.

"If we sense anything strange with her reiatsu, we can drop everything and go to her, but for now I've got a reputation to hold," she hissed at him. Ichigo muttered under his breath and shoved his hands into his pockets with bad manners.

"Stop that!" she kicked him in the shin again, causing him to howl in pain, "Behave!"

"Man… the things I do for you, Rukia," he bit through clenched teeth.

She looked back at him, a blush crossing her feature, "What's that supposed to mean?!"

Ichigo looked up at the ceiling as he responded, "I meant I wouldn't do this for anyone else."

"H-huh." she glowered at him, "But here you are talking nonstop about Orihime-san's safety."

He looked down at her, his expression serious, "We're talking about Ulquiorra Cifer here."

"Yeah, yeah," she waved her hand dismissively at him, but then regained her pompous attitude when a guest came forward to bid her goodbye.

…

"Drink this."

"H-huh? Why? What is this?" Orihime took the wine glass with both of her gloved hands. She peered at through it using the moon as her light source and examined its scarlet contents, "Wine…?"

"Taste it."

"Ah, but I'm only eighteen!" she chirped, though she felt a little excited at the thought of alcohol.

"You're only tasting, onna. There is no one else here."

Ulquiorra had brought her outside to the garden that covered the lawn behind the hotel. A large water fountain featuring the gargoyle versions of a bat, panther, and goat took up about a fourth of the land. The water that glistened with fragments of the moonlight fell softly into the pool that had fresh rose petals drifting on its surface.

It was quiet except for the muted calls of insects, the wind flowing through the trees that sheltered them from above, and the soft splashing of water as it hit the surface of the fountain's pool.

"Oh, well, if you say so!" Ulquiorra watched her as she brought the glass to her pink lips and take a testing sip of the wine. Once she adjusted to the somewhat diluted taste of alcohol, she took a longer drink of the liquid. Unknown to her, Ulquiorra's eyes brightened considerably in anticipation.

"I'm not really an expert on wine, but yeah that was pretty sweet!" she smiled at him, her teeth reflecting the light of the moon.

They continued to sit quietly on the bench next to the fountain while drinking their wine. Orihime placed her unfinished glass down on the pavement away from her so she wouldn't knock it over. She began to muse about how much fun she had so far tonight. Even though she barely spent any of it with Ichigo and she had experienced heartbreak, being with Ulquiorra seemed to calm her down and cheer her up. Despite Ulquiorra's cold demeanor, he somehow managed to always surprise her. And he was a great dancer.

All of a sudden, she turned to face Ulquiorra, the silver and steel in her eyes swimming with compassion and naivety.

"I think I like you," she declared, her voice strong with determination. In actuality, she had no control on the words the spilled from her mouth. To her confusion, fatigue was starting overcoming her senses and her mentality.

The masked youth was silent. Slowly, he veered his head towards her, his bright, green eyes fixating on her and penetrating through her soul. Her heart started to beat rapidly and squeeze in pain with every pulse.

"How absurd. You only met me a few hours ago."

"I don't care. All this time… I've been in love with a boy who never looked at me the same way, but being with you… It's so much more different. I feel complete and happy. I feel it so strongly in my heart."

Again, it was about the heart.

"Would you still be with me if I told you I am a demon?"

"Yes," she rasped. Her voice weakened as her limbs started to feel heavier.

Orihime extended her trembling hand out to him and gently placed it on his chest, right where his heart was beating softly and calmly.

He continued to stare at her through his mask, his eyes holding nothing, but emptiness.

"Do you understand what you are saying? How could you accept a beast?"

Orihime continued to stare into his wide, emerald eyes and slid her hand from his heart to touch the side of his mask. Underneath her touch, he flinched, but she persisted on slowly tracing the acrylic green tear streaks of his mask.

He was stunned, unable to recoil from her touch.

Here was a human girl, making herself comfortable with him. Even though she was at the brink of death, touching the very essence of emptiness and despair, she could still spout such words.

"Do you know what a Hollow is?" he questioned her, his green eyes bright and gleaning in the dark.

"A…Hollow…?"

Ulquiorra stood up from his seat and turned to look at her from above. Against the moonlight, his body cast a shadow that seemed to swallow both of them in complete darkness.

"I am an eternally cursed soul that feasts on the hearts of humans to fill the emptiness and rage in mine. Consuming one after the other; tens, hundreds, thousands; Hollows will never be able to quench their thirst for completion…," his eyes increased their intensity, "We eat human hearts, Inoue Orihime."

She wanted to laugh it off. It had to be a joke right? But it almost made sense. The evil aura that followed him, his past shrouded in mystery, his suspicious behavior, his questionable servants, and the rumors…

A mix of despair and mortal terror overwhelmed her and she suddenly found it hard to breathe. It was grotesque, horrifyingly so. She brought a gloved hand to her throat as she stumbled back clumsily. She fought the urge to gag from thinking about his dark nature. For a fleeting moment, darkness covered her vision only to bring her back to reality, but her mind was numb and her balance was unsteady. Was she falling asleep?

"My subordinates and I… are under this dark curse due to the mistakes we made in our past lifetimes. We will forever be living this way until we find a way to break the spell," he continued to explain, his voice soaked with hatred and anger, "We cannot leave this property or remove our masks else we turn into ugly beasts. Once I kill you, any trace of your existence will be eradicated."

Perhaps he really wasn't any different from Szayel. In his past experiences, before Ulquiorra would move in for the kill, he always told his victims what his intentions were and what he really was. He found forbidden pleasure in watching their faces lighten with realization and horror.

"Are you afraid of me, woman?"

"Don't… Don't say you're ugly, Ulquiorra…" she stumbled forward with difficulty.

"You're handsome," she whispered. Orihime reached out for him once more, gripping the collar of his tuxedo for support.

"Ridiculous," he spat, "I am wearing a mask, onna."

"No… Ulquiorra…," her words started to slur and her head drooped heavily forward, but she continued to fight the exhaustion, "You're…"

Unable to gather the strength to finish her sentence, she slumped to the ground, but Ulquiorra had caught her in his arms.

Wasting no time, he gripped her necklace with his gloved fingers and tore the faux jewels from her neck to expose the area between her collarbones. He threw the remnants of the shattered necklace away without thought. Greedily, he lowered his head and lightly grazed his fangs onto her bare skin. He put a minuscule amount of pressure onto her skin to draw a line with his teeth, drawing blood. He shuddered as he tasted her sweet blood seep onto his tongue, burning it and consuming him from inside out.

It was just as he thought. She was pure blooded. A heavenly human being. Deep within her pure soul, unbeknownst to her, was immense potential to awaken the very power that could reject reality. He would take this power for his own while relishing in this temporary pleasure.

Her head lolled to the side as he scooped her up in his arms and laid her gently on the bench next to the fountain. Ulquiorra felt her breath hitch as he placed his cold, black lips on her wound once more and start to lightly lick it. Orihime was still conscious, but she was unable to push him away or have the ability to process thoughts. Ulquiorra hovered over her, his coat tails hanging over the edge of the bench, as he lowered his fangs to pierce her skin. With a hand, he cupped her chin and tilted her head upwards to allow himself more access to her throat. He did not find pleasure in drinking blood, but he wanted to savor every taste and moment with this girl.

"Inoue!"

Orihime turned her head slowly to the best of her abilities to face the direction where the voices had come from. Her eyes widened marginally in surprise as she saw Ichigo and Rukia approach her.

Clad in the traditional Shinigami uniform complete with their swords, the duo came to her rescue, their faces twisted into expressions of desperation and rage.

"Get away from him, Inoue!" Ichigo yelled. His eyebrows were knotted in anger and a dull, orange fire was blazing within his bronze eyes.

But she had already lost consciousness.

* * *

**Alright. Before you guys start commenting on how Ulquiorra is a vampire here, I just want to say he is not a vampire. I tried to make it as clear as possible that Hollows in this AU consume hearts/souls. But putting fangs on Ulquiorra is a pretty hot idea, eh?  
**

**Thank you for reading this far with me everyone! Please leave a review and I'll continue to update fast! I know it's a long shot, but I'll see if I can reach 40 before updating, so would you be willing to reward me? Thank you again~  
It also helps if you review every chapter for me!  
**


	5. Act 1 - Set 5

**As promised at 40 reviews, here's a brand new chapter for you guys~** **Please keep it up and I will continue to update fast~**  
**Thank you so much for supporting me and even more special thanks to my lovely beta UlquiorraxOrihime!** **Enjoy!**

* * *

Ulquiorra placed a gloved hand on his mask, his eyes focusing intently on the orange-haired Shinigami before him. He ran his fingers across his face as silky smooth words spilled from his black tinted lips.

"Enclose, Murcielago."

A shower of emerald reiatsu descended upon Ichigo and even reached out to Rukia in the distance like pouring rain. The dark pressure rooted them to their spots and deafened their hearing, causing them to grit their teeth as they resisted the magnitude of his power. Ichigo managed to lift his head up, his vision fixating on the large, green fire that encased Ulquiorra. His brown eyes widened marginally in surprise.

Enormous, black wings, framed with bones as stark white as the moon, sprouted from Ulquiorra's back, the tear streaks underneath his eyes increased in darkness as if he were crying in pain, and the cornea of his eyes were dark as the forest that decorated the perimeter of the garden surrounded his now golden pupils. His mask had now transformed into two long horns that protruded from either side of his temples. His clothed fingers along with his feet were now replaced with menacing, pitch-black talons.

Ulquiorra raised his head slightly, glowering at Ichigo with simmering yellow-orange orbs.

"If you do not know it, then I shall enlighten you. This is the form of true despair."

…

"Orihime-san!? Orihime san!" Rukia screamed her name over and over again as she tried everything she could to rouse the auburn-haired girl. She was struggling against Ulquiorra's immense reiatsu, but she persevered.

'_This is not good_,' she thought, panicking, '_We expected Ulquiorra to choose her, but not poison her_!'

In the background, the clashing screeches as metal met sharpened claw could be heard piercing through the empty night.

Rukia applied pressure with a cloth on the small wound above her heart, her violet eyes darting back and forth between Ulquiorra and Ichigo as they fought. Looking back at Orihime's unmoving face, she felt she should be relieved that Ulquiorra managed to taste her blood and not do much damage, but a dreadful sensation of anguish overwhelmed her while she searched frantically for Orihime's pulse.

She couldn't feel it at her neck, or her wrists, not even when she lowered her ear above her heart. And to make it worse, her reiatsu was diminishing at an exponential rate. It was as if their penalty in finally defeating the legendary Ulquiorra Cifer was to sacrifice the life of an innocent human girl.

"Orihime!" she screeched louder in desperation. Tears started to form at the brink of her eyes as she patted Orihime's cheeks in a drastic attempt to awaken her, "No…no…no…"

…

The duel was a battle of swiftness. Ichigo had to admit Ulquiorra was one for speed. His wings propelled him forward as his tail and talons flashed tauntingly in his face before he could track its movement. Despite the flurry of action, Ulquiorra's expression remained melancholy. Ichigo, on the other hand, was soaked by a mixture of his own sweat and fresh blood resulted by the bustle of rocks that grazed past his vulnerable skin.

Out of nowhere, Ulquiorra faltered in his stance. He had to immediately materialize a lance to hold himself up. His yellow eyes grew dull as he parted his lips to breathe heavily.

"What have you done, Shinigami?" Ulquiorra hissed. His knees threatened to buckle underneath him, but he used all his strength to maintain his stance.

"We put a new drug in Inoue that makes Hollows weaker," Ichigo stated. He jumped as he raised his sword and brought it down on Ulquiorra's head, but the blade was stopped mid-thrust as Ulquiorra's metal-like claws prevented the strike.

"You used the girl as bait? Despicable…," he growled as his own blood leaked from his mouth, "You shinigami are just as dreadful as us Hollows."

"Well, what could we do?!" Ichigo yelled as he pulled back his blade only to swing it sideways at Ulquiorra's vulnerable torso.

Due to his weakened state, Ulquiorra couldn't react fast enough, enabling Ichigo to slash through his hierro. Ulquiorra sonido'd a few feet back to gain distance between himself and Ichigo as he gasped for air, spitting out copious amounts of blood onto the grass and leaking the scarlet liquid from his fresh wound. It was already bad that Ulquiorra had been drugged, but he was losing blood quickly. Normally, he would have regenerated, but the drug had been preventing his self-healing.

"You're invincible! We couldn't find a way to corner you," Ichigo panted, allowing Ulquiorra time to weaken, "Since you've fully transformed into a Hollow, the drug increased its effect."

Ulquiorra coughed up blood, the orange ember in his eyes flaring as he responded, "Soul Society must be completely incompetent. I'll tell you now, Shinigami…" he flexed his thin limbs apart to widen his stance, placed a claw on the ground, and pushed himself off, sprinting forward with massive speed, "I'm not the only Hollow here!"

"What?!" Ichigo was caught off-guard.

Before he could calculate the speed of Ulquiorra's sonido, the Hollow whipped around, bringing his tail forward with momentum to thrust it against Ichigo's chest. Ichigo flew back from the force, smashing into the hard earth, and landing in a heap of dirt and rubble. Shakily, he struggled to stand up, but Ulquiorra was already there before him. The bat-like beast grabbed Ichigo's head with his hand and planted it back on the ground with enough force to cause a deeper indention in the earth.

Ichigo coughed blood as he felt the wind escape from his lungs. Ulquiorra stepped back to examine the damage he dealt, looking down at Ichigo on the ground with glowing, yellow eyes.

"You're repulsive!" Ichigo barked up at him.

"I would not be so naïve to let my name circulate within this world without a Fraccion," he continued. His tail swished behind him as he spoke, "Fortunately for you, our tastes are more refined than to feast on that _trash_ you have brought to my estate."

His long, whip-like tail dashed forward and curled around Ichigo's neck. The Shinigami tried to wrench the tail away as it tightened its hold, reducing the blood flow to his brain as Ulquiorra lifted him off the ground.

"If you knew we were coming, then why did you let us come here?" he hissed through gritted teeth. He began to gasp for air.

"I was finally growing _interested in you humans."_

_In Inoue Orihime_.

…

Ever since Ulquiorra had been reborn as a Hollow, he had been taking advantage of large, human gatherings that took place at the hotel named Las Noches. The process was repetitive. He would arrive and choose the ripest-looking out of the rotten. Luring her to the dark, he would then intoxicate her with sweet words and soft touches which would increase the delicious, fluttering beats of her heart. With grace, he would impale her chest with his pale, bony hands, and remove her heart, leaving an empty hole in its place.

As she slowly soaked within her own blood, twitching and thrashing repulsively in the thick liquid as her brain fought to live, Ulquiorra would separate the soul from the heart and consume it. Soon after he was done with her, her body would slowly rot and decay into the air, leaving no trace except her clothes. Even her existence would be removed from every normal human being's mind.

Slowly, he managed to gain the title for the estate. Aristocrats of old and new money, including the Kuchikis, frequently relied on him and his gorgeous land to host their annual gatherings. The Kuchikis were a family of old money and Shinigami heritage. Fortunately for Ulquiorra's tactfulness, he managed to get away with his exploits for decades under the very noses of the Soul Reapers.

It was around sixty years ago that Soul Society had attempted to intervene when they detected an unbalancing of soul population due to his antics. Though, it was already too late. Ulquiorra had gathered enough power to deem himself as an immortal. He had rapid regeneration skills and was a true warrior on the battlefield. No one could stop him. Soul Society then began to back off, allowing him to live on one exception: If he did not figure out a way to break the curse within forty years, they would come back for him. Ulquiorra only spat at their threat. Although he was only one against many, he managed to obliterate whole armies of Shinigami with a single Cero Oscuras.

A hundred years had passed since he had been put under the curse, leaving only a few months of grace time for him to free himself from the spell, though it was within the forty year period that he recruited Hollows from around the world instead. First it was Szayelaporro Granz, and then Grimmjow Jaggerjaques with the useless twins, and finally Nel and Nnoitra arrived at his estate simultaneously.

It wasn't difficult to lure the Hollows in without leaving the hotel. Ulquiorra publicized his name and, through the media, began to send out implicit hints about a hotel named "Las Noches" that somehow had the ability to hide a Hollow's released form under the renowned family jewel: the _Hougyoku_. After years of being persecuted by Soul Society, it was inevitable that Hollows would immediately flock to shelter themselves under Ulquiorra's wings. Together, he and his Fraccion preyed among oblivious humans with no intention of discovering a way to lift their curse.

The temptation to consume souls was only temporary and it was not even a necessary ritual. It gave them power and would provisionally soothe the burning fire in their darkened hearts. Though, some of the Hollows like Grimmjow, Szayel, and Nnoitra did not exactly kill to satiate their hunger. They relished in much more intangible things: _despair_, _devastation_, and the_ insanity_ that crossed their victim's features and altered their behavior as their intentions were revealed. Their methods of killing were brutal, indiscrete, and underhanded.

As for Ulquiorra, he sought to fill the emptiness within him. At the beginning, he was ruthless and chaotic, scraping and tearing at the piercing hole that burned through his heart as he consumed hundreds to thousands of souls. Though now, the pain had dwindled to a tolerable pulse and devouring souls became a leisurely pursuit.

…

Ulquiorra flexed his massive, ebony wings behind him as he materialized his weapon, "Lanza de Relampago". Swinging Ichigo around in the air like a rag doll with his tail, he threw him to the side with ease. The Shinigami landed with a loud grunt as his face met with hard earth. Ulquiorra sprang himself forward once more to land the fatal strike on the incapacitated Shinigami.

"Tsugi no Mai: Hakuren!"

Ulquiorra's eyes widened considerably before he was swallowed up in a wave of ice. Rukia shunpo'd to Ichigo and lent him a supporting hand to help get back up. Ichigo glanced back at her, looking into her large, concerned amethyst eyes. He stretched his arm out to prevent her from taking a step towards the frozen monster.

"Thanks, Rukia, but you need to stay back," he glowered at Ulquiorra's frozen figure, "He's not done yet."

As if on cue, the cage of ice shattered, releasing an explosion of dark reiatsu belonging to an even angrier Hollow.

…

From a distance, Nelliel Tu Odelschwanck sonido'd to appear next to the sleeping, ginger-haired princess. Concern was etched on her face as her gaze switched from the slumbering girl to analyze the battle between Ulquiorra and the Shinigami. Nel knew that the poison 'Cantarella' is known to put people to sleep, slowing their heart rate to a point where people could not easily detect it.

'_Oh, Orihime-chan… You're our only hope_,' the teal-haired beauty fabricated energy at the tips of her fingers and proceeded to filter the poison out of her body to awaken her faster. After a few seconds of removing the poison with her strange ability, Orihime's long lashes began to flutter as she stirred.

Gradually, opening her eyes, Orihime was surprised to see large, ochre eyes looking at her from above, "N-Nel-san?"

"Orihime, you need to wake up… Look!" Nel grabbed to shoulders to help her sit upright on the bench and pointed to the direction of the fight.

Immediately, Orihime twisted her head and gasped sharply in horror. A winged beast donning the shade of the night sky above her head was bleeding profusely, his crimson blood tainting the soil beneath his feet as he dodged Ichigo's swings. The monster had skin as white as the moon, a long tail that whipped around offensively, and extended, black claws that made a screeching metal sound as it clashed against Ichigo's sword. The corneas of his eyes were a dark green, his golden pupils contrasting intensely against it.

She had no doubt about it: it was Ulquiorra.

"What's going on, Nel-san?!" she looked back at her, her eyes flickering with fear and confusion.

Nel grabbed her shoulders and shook her lightly, "You need to listen carefully," she replied sternly, "Your friends are what we call Shinigami. They are Soul Reapers. They kill Hollows to protect the human race."

Orihime's eyes widened even more at this information.

Nel shook her again, "No_, listen_, Orihime-chan! They are going to kill Ulquiorra. And not just him, us too! Me, Nnoitra, Szayel, Grimmjow, all of us! The Shinigami put a drug in you somehow and it poisoned Ulquiorra when he touched you. They tricked us, Orihime-chan… You're the only one we can trust to break the spell. So please…!"

Orihime understood.

'_Instead of finding a way to cure them, why did the Shinigami result to violence_? _Why_?'

Before Nel could stop her, Orihime had sprinted off the bench. Running as fast as she could, she placed herself in front of Ichigo before he could land his sword on Ulquiorra, her arms spread out to protect him.

"Stop!" she screamed at the top of her lungs, "He's—!"

She was never able to finish her sentence.

The eyes of Ichigo, Rukia, Nel, and even Ulquiorra widened considerably in horror and disbelief. Orihime slowly slid to the ground as Ulquiorra extracted his arm from her torso, blood gushing forth as the hole in her body stretched. She fell on her knees and then hit the ground, a pool of scarlet soaking her cerulean dress as her mask fell off.

He never saw this coming. He didn't know the girl would put herself in front of him. He was blinded by rage and emptiness that he couldn't control himself. Planning to strike Ichigo in the heart as his final attack, he never noticed the girl run in between the battle to shield him. Next thing he comprehended was his own black claws protruding from her body as he skewered through her.

He stared at his red-stained palm, the smell of fresh blood wafting strongly to his nose. His breathing became shallow and erratic as realization slowly hit him. With his soiled hand, he covered his eyes, despite the distraught already suffocating and blinding his senses. He silently recalled his mask and felt the rough outer texture of it fabricate underneath his now raggedly gloved fingers since his claws had broken through the thin cloth earlier. His original tuxedo began to reform over his chest and broad shoulders and his eyes reverted back to their normal viridian shade.

Slowly, he lowered his hand and glanced down. Seeing the girl lay still on the ground, Ulquiorra let his weakness succumb him and he collapsed on the ground next to her.

"_ULQUIORRA_!" Ichigo bellowed in fury, he lunged forward, raising his zanpakutou high above his head.

"Getsuga Ten—"

"S-stop," Orihime had managed to support herself up on a wobbly arm, her other hand stifling the pouring of blood from her wound. She coughed up the liquid that filled her mouth with a metallic taste.

"Stop… Ichigo…" she sputtered. Ichigo lowered his sword and stared at her with incredibility. Orihime winced as she turned to face Ulquiorra's motionless body.

"U-Ulquiorra…" she stammered as blood seeped from her wound and her lips.

As Ulquiorra's powers diminished, his body resulted back to his human-like form. His mask had formed over his face before Orihime had a chance to see him. Wearily, he opened his eyes, dull and empty forest-green eyes peered at her silhouette that had a white halo surrounding it from the moonlight. For a moment, he wondered if God had forgiven him and sent him to heaven, but reality had hit him when he saw blood dripping from her chin.

"Every day, Ulquiorra… I will come to you… And I will find a way to break the curse. Everyone's. No matter how long. I will… break the spell… one by one…" she collapsed on top of him, her last bit of strength leaving her.

Ulquiorra was shocked. He winced in pain as he struggled to sit up, wrapping an arm around Orihime to cradle her in his arms. He watched her shuddering gasps become quiet, labored breaths that passed between her small, pink lips. Her eyes were closed as she began to drown in the abyss of death.

"Don't die on me, onna," he rasped. With a trembling hand, he tucked wild strands of auburn hair behind her ear.

She opened her silver eyes halfway and peered at Ulquiorra upon hearing his voice, she lifted a hand to cup his face in her palm, "You really are… handsome, Ulquiorra… I…"

Ulquiorra's eyebrows furrowed in despair, "No, Orihime, it is you who is the most beautiful. Especially without your mask."

Orihime wanted to laugh but ended up sighing tiredly, wondering for a moment if he meant her cheerful façade or the actual prop. Her shaking hand began to fall from his cheek, but Ulquiorra grasped it tightly in his, feeling her warmth leave her and her hand grow cold against his skin. She sighed and closed her eyes.

"…you said my name…," she whispered. The corners of her lips tilted into a weak smile, "My heart. I'll entrust it to you…"

_A heart_?

Ulquiorra understood that she was not referring to consuming her soul, but instead she had trusted him with something else he couldn't quite explain. What is the heart good for when it does not concern the soul? The Hollow couldn't understand.

"Inoue!" Ichigo ran to her and rested a hand on her shoulder to soothe the pain that was violently shaking through her limbs. Ulquiorra didn't make a move to remove his eyes from Orihime despite Ichigo's close proximity.

"Ichigo… please. Give him a chance. I promi…se…," her fingers twitched beneath Ulquiorra's warm hand, "Every day…"

"Inoue?" Ichigo shook her shoulder, hoping she still had some lifeleft in her, "Inoue!" He tilted his head to glare, "You _killed _her, Hollow."

Ulquiorra's face was darkened by the shadow of his bangs and mask as he continued to stare at Orihime's lifeless face with wide, trembling, green orbs. Her hand on his cheek was almost as cold as the wind that drifted through the locks of auburn hair that draped over his arm. He was afraid that if he let her hand go, it would fall and she would never touch him again.

Ulquiorra lowered his head, "…away."

"What?"

"_I SAID GET AWAY FROM HER_," he roared.

Ulquiorra's eerie, viridian reiatsu flared, cloaking everything in the garden in a veil of green light. Ichigo released his grip from her shoulders and jumped back, his eyes wide with shock. Ulquiorra stood up, his eyes downcast to gaze at Orihime's closed eyes. Tenderly, he cradled her in his arms, her head leaning on his chest. A mixture of her blood and his cascaded down his legs and pooled on the grass surrounding his feet.

He snapped his head up, his glaring eyes simmering in emerald fire. Immediately, his wounds began to heal much to Rukia's and Ichigo's surprise.

"Soul Society will wait forty years, just as they promised. That should leave me four months from now," he declared. He clutched Orihime's limp body tightly against his chest, "But you will leave me and my Fraccion alone until then."

Ichigo readied his stance, his sword held confidently in his hands, "You've got to be kidding me. I will defeat you now!" he shouted.

Ulquiorra's gaze hardened in determination, despite the drug having reached his lungs, making it harder for him to breathe, "I never imagined I would be defeated to a human who relied on a drug to defeat me. The very idea is ludicrous."

"So you're running away now?!" he called after him as Ulquiorra began to turn around. Ulquiorra swiveled his forest-green eyes on him.

"You are foolish to make such a taunt. Make note that if you were to fight me and my Fraccion while protecting another, it is obvious who would emerge the winner."

The young Shinigami knew he was referring to Rukia and the dying girl in the Hollow's arms and cursed under his breath. Ichigo bit his tongue to suppress his anger. Ulquiorra had pierced him right through his pride and managed to corner him with just his words. He lowered his weapon in shame, but his eyes held the same intense fury.

The orange-haired boy parted his lips to reply to his request, "Give her to me. We will heal her."

Undeniably, her reiatsu had not totally diminished, which meant her spirit was still intact. If anyone could save her, it would be the Shinigami. Not a hideous monster like himself. His face didn't betray him as a mix of emotions welled up within the dark abyss of his heart. Hope? Ridiculous.

Orihime had promised to come back to him.

He felt his chest throb in pain and longing. Would she really come? Or would she forget him? Was she afraid of him now? With his pessimism, Ulquiorra couldn't bear to know the answer.

Ichigo took a step forward and extended his hands for the girl in his arms.

"But Soul Society will come in four months, Ulquiorra Cifer."

**Act One – End**

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**Don't forget to drop a review please~!  
**


	6. Scar From a Dream

"Ulquiorra, sit _still_," Szayel wailed impatiently.

_Snip_. _Snip. Snip_.

"Ah geez!" he whined. The pink-haired man stepped back to reassert the damage, bringing a hand to cup his chin as he shook his head in disapproval. He shifted his bone-framed glasses up his slender nose.

"Orihime-san is being released from the hospital today. If she's sticking to what she said that night, she'll be coming to see you… with this _bad _haircut. So stop looking around! You're not going to look any better the more you look at yourself," He grinned indirectly at Ulquiorra using the mirror. Ulquiorra's reflection scowled back.

"I don't see why you're trying so hard for this girl, Ulquiorra. She probably only sees you as a monster now."

Ulquiorra flinched unnoticeably as Szayel trimmed his hair, his lips stretched into a maniacal smirk.

"It's because she promised to cure us."

Szayel turned around to see Nel leaning against the doorway of his room. Ulquiorra continued to glower silently at his reflection.

"How preposterous!" he guffawed, holding his stomach as he doubled over to laugh heartedly. The pink-haired man wiped a tear from his eye as he continued to snicker, "Not even Soul Society can figure it out. Or I, for that matter, and I am a genius! You're saying Ulquiorra is giving a _human_ a chance? Besides, I'm quite satisfied living this way."

Nel shook her head in disagreement, "Soul Society will kill us for sure this time. She's our only hope."

Szayel continued to trim Ulquiorra's unruly split ends, expressionless.

"It's only been a week since you've seen her Ulquiorra. Why are you bothering to look good for her?" she added smugly.

"You mean, as good as a monster can look for a human?" he jeered. Nel laughed with him.

"Enough," Ulquiorra waved off Szayel and he stepped back to allow the raven-haired boy to stand, "The girl is coming here on her own free will. Don't make such a commotion over a haircut."

"Are you going to kill her this time…?" Nel looked sternly at his reflection. Ulquiorra ran his bony, gloved fingers through his hair, looking plainly into the mirror for any imperfections, "She saved your life."

"The girl did not save anyone. She was foolish enough to hurt herself running into a battle like that. Her aid was not needed when I have an entire Fraccion."

"But you would have surely died at that moment, Ulquiorra," Nel argued, "You were drugged and you would have never gained the ability to overcome it if it weren't for your resolution to protect h—"

The ochre-eyed girl could see the pink-haired scientist in her peripheral vision signaling her to drop the subject by running a hand sharply against the skin of his throat. She pressed her plump lips tightly together and bit her tongue as she continued to gaze at Ulquiorra's infuriated, emerald eyes.

Ulquiorra turned and stepped up to the aqua-haired woman, his face dark from the shadow of his bangs casted by the ambient lighting of Szayel's room.

"I felt no such resolution," he spat, his fangs glaring at her with the reflection of the light. She shrunk back as he towered over her, despite her stature originally being taller than him, "You must be so bored to amuse yourselves with such a small matter."

"She may or may not come," Ulquiorra added in irritation, his eyes softening, "I had set up many traps that would assure her return."

Szayel and Nel raised their eyebrows in curiosity.

"I confronted the girl at her lowest state, when her heart no longer had any strength to support herself. I had become that support by taking advantage of her situation. Now she will rely on me to fill the gaping hole that Shinigami had instigated in her heart," he paused, closing his eyes and turning back to the mirror. He opened his eyes again, glaring at the masked boy in the reflection, "I also gave her the impression that I needed her, giving her a reason to live for."

"I have trapped her in a psychological cage," he continued. Venom began to seep into his tone, "I will continue to ravish her slowly, torturously, until she fades into nothing. I will savor every bite of her soul and feel every inch of her skin against my tongue. I will use every part of her and she will give herself to me willingly."

"Hmm," Nel brought a finger up to her lips innocently, "You really like her don't you, Ulquiorra?" she giggled to herself.

"How absurd," he turned on his heel, brushed past the beaming woman, and out the room, "You're an imbecile."

…

Inoue Orihime awoke abruptly, launching herself up into a sitting position, her tiny heart pounding painfully in her chest. Instinctively, she lifted her hands to her stomach and felt around the rough edges of her scar as if she were expecting a vast hole to be left there instead. It had been a week since she ended up in the hospital, but she failed to recall the events of the masquerade ball she attended where she was last conscious before waking up from the insistent beeping of the heart monitor next to her.

Earlier in the week, she had awoken to the low rumblings of Ichigo's voice as he talked to the doctor. At the time, she was still in excruciating pain; every breath she took sent her over the edge of consciousness as the discomfort overwhelmed her senses. But as Ichigo's voice coaxed her awake, she forced herself to take shallow breaths, her eyes fluttering as she kept them closed and relaxed with effort while she listened.

Apparently, she was in the garden of the hotel the masquerade party was held at and she had been shot through the chest with a shotgun. The suspect had fled before anyone could note his features. Why someone had decided to go on a shooting rampage at the backyard of a renowned hotel was beyond Orihime. Though, she was extremely grateful she was still alive despite the searing pain in her abdomen and the weird aching in her chest that didn't seem to correlate with the physical pain.

The doctor responded apprehensively, wondering how she healed so fast if her torso had been obliterated by a shotgun. It all seemed surreal that she was shot and yet prepared for release later that week.

Her memory reservoirs of that night were all filled with incoherent moments and dense with unanswered questions. All she could remember is a mask. Toxic green tear streaks ran from the slits of the mask and behind it, startling green eyes peering at her, piercing and pulling at her heart. A gloved hand reaching out to her… his fingers beckoning her to whisk her away…

She had been having strange dreams too.

…

The desert was cold. The moon loomed over their heads, casting long shadows from their bodies to splay atop the barren, white sand. In front of her, a pale-skinned boy fixated his emerald gaze to her. His large, ebony reptilian wings stretched far behind him, fading slowly to dust, mixing with the stale air and disintegrating into nothingness. She felt her eyes grow wide with wonder, her lips quivering as she looked at the boy who was disappearing right before her eyes.

He gazed at her with such sad eyes, though his dull, green eyes held so much more than it seemed. Anger? Fear? Regret? Orihime believed it could be all of them. He held out a pale, bony hand towards her, reaching for her, silently calling, begging: "_Save me_."

"Are you afraid?"

She felt tears collect and threaten to spill over the edges of her tense, determined eyes. Why was he the one asking her? She should be the one inquiring. The sadness in his eyes was immeasurable.

"I'm not… afraid."

The boy looked away, closing his sorrowful, green eyes. He continued to fade into dust.

"I see," was all he said. She wanted to hear more even though she also had understood him. And it was at that moment that it hit her.

_She understood him_.

He began to pull his hand back as if she had rejected him, but she felt far from that. She accepted him. She lifted a hand that lay on her chest and reached out to him. She had meant to curl her fingers around his, capturing him, anchoring him down to this material world with her, but she only felt death underneath her cold fingertips. Death and air. He continued to deteriorate.

Desperately, she reached out further, but his arm was completely gone. She looked back at him between her fingers, her eyes wide with despair. The boy looked back at her, the tear streaks on his face beginning to fade as the desert persisted on swallowing him.

…

"Orihime? Orihime, are you okay?"

The chestnut-haired girl focused her eyes on her best friend who was currently sitting next to her hospital bed, anxiety etched on her features.

"You just kind of got up so suddenly and you spent like ten minutes day dreaming," Tatsuki blinked twice at her.

Orihime's blank gaze struggled to focus as she slowly forced herself back into reality, "Oh hey Tatsuki-chan. How long have you been here?"

"I've been here since last night," the short-haired girl cocked her head to the side, examining Orihime's unmitigated expression, "Are you sure you're okay, Orihime? Maybe you should stay he—"

"No!" she yelled, making Tatsuki jump in her seat, "I mean... I really hate it here! I want to go home!"

Somehow, she felt as if she needed to go somewhere and every moment she spent in the hospital was a second wasted. She didn't even know _where _herheart wanted to take her, but she had a sense of unknown obligation weighing on her shoulders.

After Tatsuki and Orihime finished all the paperwork for her release, they chatted nonchalantly as they walked back to Orihime's apartment, their topic ranging from Orihime's distaste in hospital food to what school work she had missed that week. Autumn leaves crumbled softly under their feet as they walked under canopies of bronze and gold. It was cold for late November in Tokyo, but Tatsuki had brought her a scarf and a heavier coat much to her gratitude.

The sunlight grew softer as the late afternoon clouds obscured it. As they walked through the quiet suburban streets, Orihime had been feeling a strange sensation licking at her intuition. It was heavy, like the feeling you get when you look outside right before it rains. Abruptly, darkness flickered in front of her eye. Her gray eyes hurriedly scanned her surroundings, but found nothing suspicious, but the strange presence still hovered over her ominously.

Gradually, Orihime's pace quickened, but her notion was undetected by her friend who continued to talk, oblivious of what just happened and the lingering pressure.

Upon arrival to her apartment, Orihime immediately felt a blanket of dread wrap around her lungs. She wanted nothing more than to be home and relax on her bed since her body was still aching in pain, but upon smelling the clean and empty air of the small dwelling, she felt she no longer belonged there. Loneliness washed through her and her silver eyes lost their sheen.

Sensing Orihime's mood, Tatsuki frowned. It was really out of character for Orihime to be so… sad. Although she had witnessed the innocent girl lose herself in her thoughts, her expression definitely came off as depressed. She began to wonder if something else had happened at that party she attended with Ichigo.

_Ichigo_.

Tatsuki mentally cursed him. _'He escorted her, yet Orihime still ended up in the hospital? How unreliable_!' she fumed. Orihime also had the time to tell her that Ichigo had the nerve to ditch her and dance with the Kuchiki girl. Though, it was at that point during Orihime's story that she had to coax the girl to stop crying since her sobbing was only going to make it harder for her body to recuperate.

"Orihime! I got ya something!" Tatsuki had come by her apartment earlier with the spare key Orihime had given her to drop something off.

Just as the tomboy had planned, Orihime snapped her head towards her direction, her gray eyes swimming with joy and curiosity, "Oh, I love surprises!"

"Then, you'll love _this_!" Tatsuki turned around to fetch something that was hidden behind her kitchen counter and presented it to Orihime with outstretched arms, "Ta da!"

"Donuts!" Orihime drooled, her eyes now filled to the brim with stars. She clambered over and grabbed a glazed donut. She brought it to her pink lips and took a large bite happily.

"_Do you like donuts?"_

"…_yes"_

An image of the boy in her dreams emerged in her thoughts. He was sitting across from her, his mask glaringly white in the moonlight. She remembered his gloved hands holding hers as he held her against his chest. He was warm.

"_No, Ulquiorra, you're—"_

How could she have forgotten?

Orihime placed her hand gently on her stomach, feeling the rough edges of the scar that patched over what was once a cavernous, bloody hole. Memories of the masquerade submerged her consciousness in thought. The way his long, ebony hair tickled her cheek as she leaned against him, the swishing of his coat tails as he turned, and his stoic emerald eyes as he gazed melancholically at her.

And then she recalled sharp, black claws protruding from under her breasts and a searing pain. Blood. Not just hers. His too. Dripping, sticky crimson coating her cerulean gown and caking his stark white skin. She could remember parting her lips to speak and breathe, but she could not grasp what words she had spoken. In fact, she couldn't remember anything she had done consciously that night. It was as if she were remembering a dream. It was the events of another chestnut-haired girl under a dark blue mask that she was reminiscing.

'_Goodness. Why can't I remember anything important_?" she thought, frustrated.

Orihime recollected falling asleep uncharacteristically in his arms. Was she drugged? By Ulquiorra? But then she vaguely remembered seeing Ichigo and Rukia wearing identical, black clothing. Did they have anything to do with it? Why were they there and out of their…

'_Oh that's right. Nel explained everything to me."_

She could remember that. So Ichigo and Rukia were going to kill Ulquiorra… because he was a monster. _Shinigami_ is what she had called them. And they had put a drug into her so that when Ulquiorra touched her… he…

She winced in dejection. Ichigo had used her. Though surprisingly, instead of anger, she felt confusion. Orihime couldn't find the sentiment to blame Ichigo and Rukia. They had good intentions right? The Shinigami put her life in danger, but she's fine now. What bothered her most was pulling at the strings of her heart painfully. Was that the only reason Ichigo brought her there that night? As bait? Orihime bit her tongue to suppress the tingling sensation prickling at her nose and eyes.

"Tatsuki-chan…"

"Yes, Orihime?" Tatsuki responded then took another bite of her own donut.

"Do you know someone by the name… Ulquiorra-something?"

"…Why?" she squinted her eyes, suspicious of the caramel-red haired girl fidgeting visibly before her.

"Ah, his name sounds really cool! I heard it from somewhere…" it wasn't completely a lie. She blinked her eyes twice at Tatsuki, hoping her airhead endeavor would be enough to cloud the aching desire to appease the anguish coagulating in her blood.

"Hmm," the tomboy cupped her chin in her hand as she thought, "Ulquiorra… Ulquiorra Cifer! Yeah! He's like one of those noble people. He's the current holder of the Hougyoku and owns the Las Noches hotel!"

"Hougyoku…?" the name sent a shudder down her spine as the syllables rolled off her curious tongue.

"Yeah, it's supposedly some legendary jewel. It was originally passed down in the Aizen family, but I guess, rather than the heirs receiving the title, it's whoever is given that gem..."

It was at that moment that Orihime decided to change the subject. She had already learned enough. He was the owner of a hotel called Las Noches… and the Hougyoku. She decided to come by later that night even though she was still sore from her wound. Orihime wanted nothing more than to get rid of the nagging feeling to see him. At least one more time.

…

"Nnoitra!"

The lanky, black-haired man twirled around to glare downwards at the grinning girl standing below him. He sighed, turning back to the kitchen cabinet, "Whaddya want Nelliel? Go away."

Nel pouted, but refused to step away. She grabbed the stool Nnoitra was standing on to reach for something stowed away in the tall cabinet and began to shake it furiously.

"I have a favor to ask!" she sang as she shook the stool. Nnoitra hobbled on the smooth, wooden surface dangerously, clinging onto the edge of the cabinet for support.

"Quit it, Nelliel!" he hissed, unable to regain his footing on the unstable platform, "It's gonna— oomf!"

With a final push, Nel managed to move the stool from underneath Nnoitra, sending him crashing on top of her on the floor, but she caught him as he fell, lessening the impact as he pressed against her bust. The wavy-haired girl laughed underneath his chest, her ochre eyes crinkling as she smiled. He scowled at her, but his heart began to pump rapidly as he felt Nel's hand creep up to touch his cheek.

"Loosen up, Nnoitra!" she smiled softly at him as she caressed his face.

Nel had always been this way towards him. Always chasing after him, being with him, wanting to touch him. It was only natural that Nnoitra had come to despise her antics, but Nel couldn't help herself. She felt obligated to take care of him. She knew she was the only one who understood him. How, she couldn't remember. Both Nnoitra and she had forgotten their human life; this sense of obligation only came to her naturally.

With wide violet eyes, he swatted her hand away, his grimace deepening. Nel was still smiling goofily at him, her brown eyes twinkling with compassion. Frustration and irritation welled up within Nnoitra. Impulsively, he grabbed her neck with his thin fingers and began to choke her, his brow furrowing in rage.

"You're a _bitch_," he hissed, squeezing his grip on her tighter, "You think this is a game?"

Nnoitra felt her twitch under his hold. Her smile slowly dissipated and her expression grew serious, but she showed no signs of struggle. Nel was always like that and it infuriated him. No matter how many times he tried to hurt her, he could never faze her. She was always on top of him; controlling him, evoking strange sensations in him that made him feel lonely. She intensified his despair.

Releasing her, he got off and straightened up and began to pat off any invisible dirt that may have gotten on his white coat. Nel continued to lie on the floor, gazing up at his towering body with amused, bronze eyes.

Nnoitra glared down at her, liking the way she looked beneath him. He kicked her roughly against her side, making her wince in pain, but her previous happy expression was beginning to reemerge. She sat up and began to laugh at his confused expression.

'_This girl is insane_,' he concluded.

"I really hate you, Nelliel," he sneered, narrowing the thin slits of his eyes.

He hated the way she touched him. Like as if they were best friends. She always followed him, annoyed him, _cared_ for him. Nnoitra didn't want any of that. He absolutely loathed the way her large, brown eyes would sparkle when she saw him and the way her lips looked so plump and virgin. So innocent. He wanted to wipe that childish grin off her face.

Nel's smile loosened into a thin line as she pursed her lips. She averted her gaze as she sat up and mumbled, "…I know."

"Then you should scram," Nnoitra turned around and bent over his tall, skinny body to pick up the chair stool Nel had knocked over.

"B-but can you do me a favor, Nnoitra?"

"No," he sauntered over to the stove, grimacing at his now simmering and burnt concoction. He switched the fire off.

"I'll sing for you."

Nnoitra froze.

"Depends… what that favor is then," he murmured warily, his eyes still fixated on his cooking.

"Can we make a nice dinner? For Orihime-chan!" she perked. Nel had removed herself from the ground and was now standing next to Nnoitra, peering into the wok, "Oooh, that's bad…," she mumbled.

Nnoitra fixated his violet eyes on her. _How could she pretend that nothing happened? Like as if I didn't try to kill her just now. This bitch has always been like this. So fucking annoying…_

"Orihime? Ah… _pet-sama _," he smirked at his little nickname, "That _babe._"

Nel frowned, "Yes, she's coming tonight and I want to have a big welcome party for her!"

"Ha!" he laughed loudly, startling Nel, "What makes you think that girl is coming back? Ulquiorra probably scared the shit outta her!"

"_Please_ Nnoitra? _Pleeeeeease_," she begged, her eyes widened into a puppy-look as she gripped his coat sleeve, "I'll sing for you!"

"Why are you trying so hard for that girl, Nelliel? She probably thinks you're a freak of nature too. She wouldn't be the only one though," he shrugged her off. She took a step back, hurt.

"I'll pay for the groceries _and_ I'll sing for you!" she chirped with a sad smile, "I just want a friend… People here are awfully boring."

Nnoitra sighed, "Fine, if it'll make you go away," he shoved his hands into his pockets as Nel danced and hopped around behind him in victory, "but I get to choose the song," he added under his breath.

Nel nodded eagerly, "Of course! I'll go get someone to buy the ingredients now!" she skipped off to find a human to do her errands.

Nnoitra scowled, annoyed. He stared at the black precipitate of his cooking silently wondering what the hell he was doing.

…

Orihime sneezed quietly into her scarf, rubbing her nose in an attempt to put warmth back into her cold skin. She wrapped her arms around her chest and huddled next to a tree. It was dark already, but the streets were illuminated by the occasional lamp post. With hurried steps, she walked to the next tree and leaned against it. She twisted her head sharply as she scanned her environments, but as she expected, saw nothing. Yet the foreign presence was still there.

She couldn't understand how she could sense something she couldn't see, but it was there nonetheless. Perhaps she was going crazy, but the impression that someone was and still is following her had been nipping at the nape of her neck since she left the hospital. She felt safer with Tatsuki around, but Orihime was alone now, trying to get to the bus stop that would take her to Ulquiorra. With that thought, her motivation flickered brighter and she gripped her phone reassuringly. Orihime had already been wasting time trying to avoid the lurker by taking detours, but she was determined to go to Las Noches.

The nearest stoplight turned red, but no car was in sight so she ran from the safety of the tree to cross the street. She slowly walked to the bench of the bus stop and brought her knees up to her chin in fetal position for warmth and security. She felt vulnerable sitting there without coverage, but her intuition had been telling her that nothing could protect her at this rate. They were still there. Or it. Whatever it was, it was freaking Orihime out.

Suddenly, the presence thickened and grew heavier like smog. Her heart rate sped up as she glanced around to see the shadows cast by the scarce lighting grow around her, choking her and swallowing her in darkness. She was shaken out of her paranoia when the loud screeching of the bus pierced through her mind. The doors opened in front of her, flooding her in light and dispelling all the darkness. She sighed with relief and hopped of the bench.

Taking one look back before stepping into the bus, Orihime swore she saw a mask in the confines of a dark alleyway.

* * *

**Yes, yes, no UlquiHime moments this time. This is merely a transition chapter and I already have half of the next chapter written up! So please stick around until the next update, take a few seconds to leave a review, and you might see some juicy moments soon~ Even some words like "Keep writing!" really help a lot! I hope I will not fail you guys!  
**


	7. Ashes

Ulquiorra, Nel, Nnoitra, and Szayel sat around the large dinner table that occupied Nel's humble dining room. Sitting patiently, Nel busied her hands by twirling a knife between her nimble fingers; the teal-haired girl grinning optimistically at Ulquiorra. He stared blankly at the feast before him, not amused. Szayel and Nnoitra were wasting an awful amount of energy arguing about how they like their girls 'prepared' before devouring her. Or sometimes boys for Szayel's tastes.

Just then, Menoly and Loly barged in, an ugly scowl carved into the dark-haired twin's features while her sister bore an almost apologetic look.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" she jeered. She glanced at the food sitting atop the table untouched and then shifted her fuchsia leer on Ulquiorra. He paid her no attention, but instead closed his eyes and shoved his hands further into his pockets.

"Grimmjow-sama wanted us to check on you guys," she seethed, keeping her voice even, "But it just turns out you're waiting for that human girl, aren't you Ulquiorra?" A pinch of jealousy coursed through her veins. _What was so special about her?_

Nel frowned, "What are you doing in my room? You weren't invited. You could have just asked Pesche or Dondochakka."

"She's right, Loly," Menoly began to tug on her sister's sleeve, "We shouldn—"

Loly shoved her twin off roughly making her take a few steps back, "Well, guess what? That little girl isn't coming for you!" her grin stretched from ear to ear, her teeth gleaming, "She isn't coming for any of you! You saw her! She's nothing but a weak, slu—"

"This is ridiculous," Ulquiorra pushed his seat back, his hands still in his pockets.

He turned on his heel and sauntered out of the room, intentionally pushing Loly back with his shoulder. Loly gaped at him, balling her fists at her sides while Menoly patted her shoulder in an attempt to console her. Loly absolutely hated how Ulquiorra just stomped all over her and her pride with his melancholy temperament. She wasn't even worth his time. Grimmjow was her master and yet this guy had the nerve to treat her like some trash. She figured she would do the same towards him, but it seemed to only backfire on her when Ulquiorra didn't even acknowledge her.

Suddenly, Loly's face was painted red as a tomato collided with her scowling features.

"Out, out, out goes the bitches!" Szayel sang as Nel threw another fruit at the black-haired girl. Loly gaped, her mouth hanging open only to have another tomato plant itself right on her tongue. Disgusted, she spat the fruit out and began to gag, sending a smoldering glare to the three people in the room. Menoly fretted behind her, yelling at Nel to stop.

"You're all _monsters_. Don't ever forget that," she cackled, her insane grin reemerging on her face and stretching from ear to eat maniacally, but she looked ridiculous with red muck caked on her teeth.

Nel threw a banana at her, but it wasn't as soft as a tomato so it hit her square in the forehead with a thump. After letting out a scream of irritation, Loly huffed and left the room to report to Grimmjow, her sister trailing behind like a lost puppy as she wiped the remnants of food off her face.

Nel frowned after them and sighed, exasperated.

"See, Nelliel? You're wasting all of our time!" Nnoitra squinted his beady eyes at her and she shrunk in her seat under his glare, "She ain't gonna come. It's already 10 o' clock! And my food is gettin' cold. You owe me two songs now."

Szayel perked up in his seat, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose in interest, "Oh? Nel sings for you, Nnoitra?" he teased with a smirk.

Nnoitra shot him a look, glaring at him with his signature grimace.

"Neeeel," Szayel sang, his grin stretching, "How come you don't sing for me? You sing for parties and Nnoitra, but you never sing for me!"

Nel's eyes narrowed at him and stuck out her bottom lip, a blush forming beneath the tattoo etched across the bridge of her nose and on her cheeks. She parted her lips to explain, but was interrupted by some noisy shuffling at the door.

"Yo!"

"Grimmjow!" Nel chirped. She scooted her seat back and launched herself at the surly, blue-haired man. He caught her in a friendly embrace. Discreetly, he sent a mischievous smirk at Nnoitra who only scoffed at his provocation. Szayel bounced in his seat with amusement, watching invisible sparks manifest in the air from the two men who inaudibly fought over the oblivious girl.

"Where've you been?" The aquamarine-haired girl jumped off of him and asked with large, brown eyes.

"Still fixing the damn shit Ulquiorra messed up in the garden during his fight with the Shinigami," he sneered, "That bastard ruined my Rhododendrons," he slipped in an awkward cough and mumbled, "Not like I really care though…"

Grimmjow scanned the room, his bright, blue eyes settling on the rows of dishes that adorned the table top. They seemed to have grown cold though.

"So you guys are still waiting for that human girl Ulquiorra is head over heels with?" he mocked. He enjoyed nothing more than getting on the emo boy's nerves (and Nnoitra's too), but glancing around once more, he noticed he spoke to soon, "Tch. Where's that asshole?"

Nel shrugged, "Guess he just got tired of waiting. It's already pretty late…"

"Well, more food for me!" Grimmjow drooled, looking over Nel's head. He walked around her and pulled a chair out for himself.

"Maybe… she isn't coming…," Nel's eyelids drooped downwards, her optimism deflating along with her perky attitude. Just before Grimmjow decided to dig into Nnoitra's dishes with his grimy fingers, a tapping of hurried, light footsteps could be heard coming towards the dining room, making everyone pause whatever they were doing to look up.

"I'm… so… sorry I'm late!"

Leaning against the door was Inoue Orihime herself, panting and gasping for air. She was wearing a dark brown coat with a furred hood on top of a plain, white tank top. A long, pink skirt reached her ankles and flowed loosely around her curves and lightly covered her brown, leather boots. Completing the ensemble was a forest green scarf, wrapped around her slender neck.

Despite already knowing the truth, Orihime was still surprised to see everyone in their masks. Though they were no longer in their formal wear, the bony fragments were still plastered to their faces as if they were still attending a masquerade. She felt her chest heave in sadness. '_They are still under the curse. And they only have 4 months left until they are all killed. Looking at them now, they all seemed like nice people too…'_

"Orihime-chan!"

Before Orihime could examine her surroundings, she was forced into a painful bear hug by Nel.

"H-hi, Nel," she hugged her back, lightly petting her waves of sea-foam blue hair, "Sorry I'm so late!" Orihime blushed as she noticed everyone's calculating eyes were fixated on her, "I-I felt like someone was following me and I had to take a taxi to get here," she laughed nervously, scratching the back of her head.

"Well, don't be shy! Come sit!" Nel gently pushed her to a cushioned chair at the dining table.

Orihime's gray eyes grew large as she examined all the food up close. It was no longer steaming warm, though, which made her all the guiltier for arriving so late, but it looked delicious either way.

"Wow! Do you guys really eat stuff like this every night? Being a noble must be awesome," she mused aloud. Szayel chuckled.

"No, Nel insisted we have a welcome party for you. Nnoitra made all of this though," Nel was nodding fervently to the pink-haired man's words. Orihime gave Nnoitra a grateful smile, but the lean guy only scoffed back, his arms crossing over his chest.

"How did you guys know I was coming?"

"You promised us remember?" Nel blinked at her.

"Ah… about that, I really don't remember anything I said that night," she giggled half-heartedly.

"The Shinigami must have wiped your memory," Szayel concluded.

That confirmation sent a spear of ice right through her heart. Ichigo and Rukia erased her memories to keep her out of their 'secret' life. Not only was she an outcast, a third wheel, in their relationship, but she had been used… Orihime mentally kicked herself for thinking so negatively about her friends, but her depression did not lighten.

"Well, go eat! I didn't make all this shit just to have it grow mold," he chided. Nel shot him a look. Grimmjow had already begun to help himself, not holding back the gobbling noises his throat made as he swallowed whole pieces of meat.

"O-okay!" Orihime was a little stunned having been told.

Everyone began retrieving their portions: a slice of turkey with a drizzle of raspberry sauce, some honey ham and shrimp scampi and an assortment of chopped up vegetables. There were a lot more exotic dishes, but the auburn-haired girl couldn't name them all. Orihime, being the Japanese-oriented girl she is, wasn't used to the luxurious western dishes, but she enjoyed the foreign tastes on her tongue.

"This place is really big," she muffled out, her mouth partially full with food, "And super nice," she swallowed, "I had the hardest time finding my way to this room. And geez, it's kind of creepy coming over here in the dark since it's in the mountains. It's like… a giant, haunted mansion!"

Nel nodded, "Except for the haunted part, unless you consider us Hollows as the supernatural, that's because this _is _a mansion."

"Wha-what?" Orihime had to mentally remind herself to close her mouth before any mush of food had a chance to fall out.

"Yes," Szayel pushed his glasses up his nose and grinned proudly, "This place is over a hundred years old. It was originally the home of the Aizen bloodline."

Orihime blinked twice at him, "Then how did Ulquiorra get it?" All four of them shrugged.

"He probably annoyed the hell outta them with his emo-ness and they bribed him with the estate to make him stop," Grimmjow continued to shove food into his mouth nonchalantly as he spoke, totally unaware of the fact that shredded pieces of meat were flying from his mouth. Nel grimaced next to him.

"Or maybe he killed 'em!" Nnoitra added with his nasal voice.

"Children. It's obvious Ulquiorra just manipulated them into giving him whatever he wanted," Szayel reasoned.

"But how could a commoner even _talk_ to a noble of the Aizen family at that time?" Nel chimed in.

Orihime washed her food down with a glass of water, "Hmm, that reminds me. How old are all of you people?" She knew they were possibly centuries older than her, but their physical appearance looked about her age range. It was kind of strange to be having dinner with a group of masked monsters who looked to be around her age and definitely human.

"Ahh… we kind of forgot. He he…," Nel smiled apologetically, "But Ulquiorra is the youngest, that's for sure."

Orihime wasn't sure if she was lying about not knowing her own age because she was being self-conscious or if she were telling the truth. She concluded that they must be very old then.

"Well," Orihime clapped her hands together and bowed slightly, "thank you so much for the food, but I think I will go look for Ulquiorra now."

All four pairs of eyes were trained on her in interest. There wasn't much entertainment, being stuck in Las Noches, so they all felt amused with Orihime and Ulquiorra's relationship.

"If ya want to see him, his room's past the lobby, down the hallway across it, turn right after the fourth door, and his room is at the end of the hallway," Grimmjow instructed. Orihime suddenly felt an urge to have him repeat it so she could map it out.

"Thank you," she stood up and politely bowed to excuse herself and went on her way.

The lobby was incredibly large. Almost as big as the ballroom where she danced with Ulquiorra. The theme was Victorian. Orihime found it hard to believe that there was a mansion like this deep within a forest in Japan. Orihime had no idea who would want to rent a room out in an isolated location like this, but maybe it was for the tourists who liked authentic luxury and scenery.

Unlike the ballroom, the walls lining the lobby were made of a light wood with intricate moldings, but as usual, the lighting was a soft yellow, illuminating the dark, cherry floor boards her feet lightly tapped on. She finally crossed the large room and entered the hallway that stretched ahead of her.

Orihime continued to walk down the large, well-furnished hallway. Though, the deeper she continued to wander, the less intense the lights became. The polished shadows of faceless angel statues twitched ominously on the pale marble walls. The velvet carpet beneath her suddenly diminished into ruined, scarlet threads as if someone had torn the rug apart with a knife. Instead of treading on the remnants of the carpet, her feet began to tap lightly on hard stone. Deeper into the hallway, the angel statues had gradually been replaced with far more menacing gargoyles resembling demons and the damned. A cold shiver ran down her spine and settled in the pit of her stomach as she continued to explore.

Passing by a large and old grandfather clock, her heart began to thump simultaneously with its loud ticking. Each tick and tock of time hummed through her body, its sound reverberating against the small walls of the dark hallway. She placed a fragile hand to her chest to feel the rapid beating of her heart under her fingertips. The hallway seemed endless, the only sight that lay in front of her was the pitch darkness of whatever lay ahead and the many menacing expressions of toothed gargoyles glaring at her, but she persisted.

At a point, the light of the chandeliers that hovered above her had dwindled to nothingness, lowly lit, blue ember fires had replaced their duty. Orihime gasped as she saw the gargoyle statues that adorned the edges of the hallway in their shattered glory. A missing stone wing there. A face smashed in here. A statue that was once there was completely reduced to rubble. A head lay decapitated from its shoulders lay in her path. It was as though someone released all their anger here, rampaging and wallowing in their loneliness and sorrow, their only consolation were the sounds of destruction that echoed down the hallway as they mercilessly destroyed the ancient furniture.

The loud ringing of the grandfather clock as it struck 12 o'clock far behind her shook her resolve. She began to walk faster, her eyes staring straight forward to avoid the despaired looks of the gargoyles that stared at her. At the first ring, her heart dropped to her stomach. At the second, her eyes began to swell with tears. At the third, fear began to flow through her veins. At the fourth, she spurred her feet to run.

The adrenaline pumping through her legs threatened to buckle her knees under her as she realized she had no idea where she was going. She couldn't turn back. She didn't want to see those demolished statues and the slight, blue light that reflected off their faces deepen the shadow of their creases. Before she could reside to curling up on the floor and crying for help, she stumbled upon two large, oak doors. The entrance towered above her, touching the ceiling, and was decorated with an intricate, albeit faded, pattern of scarlet and gold paint. She felt the thudding beneath her chest increase in rhythm as she pushed open the door with unhesitating hands.

The auburn-haired princess inhaled softly as the scene unfurled before her. It was a large room shrouded in darkness and the shadows of the curtains shielding the room from the moonlight outside. The air was stale and dusty; the old floorboards beneath her boots creaked lightly, disturbing the deafening silence that rang in her ears almost painfully. Everything was tattered. The large, luxurious bed was lopsided, leaning on the frame too precariously for someone to be sleeping on it, its stuffing torn out from the middle. The unmoving curtains had tears that were intentionally carved into it. Every porcelain masterpiece was slashed into bits and pieces of its former beauty, glistening and reflecting the moonlight that managed to trickle into the room, but an eerie glow pulsating in the dark corner of the room caught her eye.

Approaching it, she could see it was a glass box encasing something within it, but it was opaque enough to blur out any image of what could be seen inside. With feeble fingers, she reached out to lift the top, but the door she had left ajar earlier suddenly slammed shut, startling her and causing her to jump in surprise.

"What are you doing here?"

Orihime spun around immediately to confront the voice, but her breath caught in her throat as she saw two gleaming emerald eyes glaring at her in the darkness.

"U-Ulquiorra? I-I…," she suddenly felt guilt paralyze her feet from moving. With quivering eyes, she watched Ulquiorra step out of the shadows and towards her. He took another step forward to test if she would waver, but the woman stood frozen, her hands placed on her chest, right above her beating heart.

"I asked you what you were doing here… _onna_," he was a mere foot away from her now. His viridian gaze brightened in the dark as he stared down at her. His deep voice echoed in the room, disturbing the silence and quickening the pace of her heartbeat.

"I-I-I…," she didn't know what to say. His intense stare was numbing her brain. She felt as though it had been forever since she had seen him. After all, it was as if she only dreamed of him, yet here he was; alive and breathing, his musky scent wafting around her, and those eyes boring right through her soul. He looked so handsome even though he still harbored his mask, but he still donned his formal wear.

Did he frighten her? Ulquiorra's eyes hardened, watching the steel in her eyes reflect the moonlight that filtered through the curtains. _No, this girl only shows symptoms of surprise and guilt._ Her eyes grew wide as he cupped her chin in his gloved hand. She was trembling underneath his touch.

"Speak," he demanded, still searching her eyes for answers to his unasked questions.

Orihime averted her gaze, removing her head from Ulquiorra's hand. Her cheeks grew a rosy tint in embarrassment, "I was… looking for you," she whispered.

"Why?"

"Don't misunderstand," she puffed her cheeks innocently, "I… can't remember much from that night, but my heart kept telling me to come to you."

_The things reflected in my eyes have no meaning_.

Ulquiorra continued to stare at her. Her long, brown eyelashes fluttered shyly as she waited for his response.

_The things that could not be reflected in my eyes do not exist._

"There is nothing in you and me," he turned around, his back facing her and his long coat tails swishing behind him as he stepped away, "Leave."

"Wait! Ulquiorra!" she stretched her hand out towards him, but he stepped away in time just to have her fingers graze his coat. Orihime called out to him, "I just want… to get to know you a little better!"

Suddenly, Ulquiorra had her shoved against the wall, pinning her hands in his high above her head. His grip was almost painful and she immediately found it difficult to breathe with his chest pressing against hers. Her breath hitched in her throat when she tilted her head up only to be startled by his fiery eyes. She was being consumed by those green orbs, succumbing to the range of emotions she couldn't label within them. In contrast, his expression did not reflect whatever he was thinking. At this moment, she saw everything. And nothing.

"Are you not scared of me, onna?"

With half-lidded eyes, Ulquiorra watched her rose petal lips part as she spoke.

"No. I'm no—"

"_Nonsense_!" Ulquiorra hissed as he pressed harder into her, squeezing her further in between the wall and his hard chest and closing any gap that may have previously been between them. She whimpered in response, her confidence faltering, but only for a moment, "Why do you insist on lying to me, onna? You no longer wear a mask. If you knew what was best for yourself, you would know better than to speak such trash to me."

Orihime tried to move her hands, but his grip on her wrists tightened, his gloved fingers managing to imprint her frail skin.

"Ul-Ulquiorra it hurts," he was so close. She wasn't conscious of the searing pain of his grip on her, nor the way his hard chest pressed into her as if desperate to feel every inch of her warm body touching his. It was his tone. His voice carried hatred and bitterness. Was it towards her? Why was he rejecting her?

"Why are you not afraid of me? I have never suggested any inkling of kindness. Have you forgotten that I had tried to devour you?" his cool breath swept across her cheek as he tilted his head to her eye level. Silver and emerald met and held each other in a strong gaze.

"I know… you won't hurt me," she whispered softly.

Ulquiorra furrowed his brow. _Unacceptable._

"You are imprudent to think of such, onna," he released his hold on her wrists, but Orihime made no move to escape. She was too entranced by the emotions she could vaguely catch swimming in his bright, viridian pools. She stopped breathing for a moment when she felt the pressure of his hand rest on her thin top, right above the remnants of her wound that was now enclosed in scar tissue.

Orihime began to whimper as she felt his digits slide down her stomach, slip under her shirt, and slide back up, skimming over her tender, milky skin. His hand was gloved, but it felt so cold and foreign. Yet it was seething hot on her skin. The sensation was extreme. His touch was licking at her, biting at her nerves and sending shock waves through her body which settled in her groin. Ulquiorra watched as her dull, gray eyes cloud over from her overwhelmed senses.

But he wasn't content. It wasn't fear he was seeing in her eyes. It was…

_Lust_.

He slowly dug his digits into her silky flesh, relishing the sight of her steely eyes regaining their luster. Orihime's eyes widened as realization and pain snapped her out of her trance. She inhaled sharply as he continued to press his fingers into her skin. She felt him break apart the regenerated skin and she winced in pain, whimpering for him to stop, asking him what he was doing, but Ulquiorra ignored her. His eyes rekindled with a different light as he felt her fresh, crimson blood soak through his cotton gloves. It wasn't much, but with his heightened senses, it was just enough for him to smell it. He could almost taste her.

Her heart was rampaging quietly under the flesh of her ample breasts. He could almost hear it. He could feel its throbbing pulse at the ends of his fingertips.

_Thump thump thump…_

Those gray eyes. She was testing his self-control. Or that is what he presumed. Ulquiorra's breathing became heavy as his eyes consumed the scene of her frenzied display of emotions playing on her gentle, dewy face. Her rose-petal mouth contorted as she persuaded him to answer her, but her feeble, shaky voice fell on deaf ears. Tears began to fall, coating the blush that had blossomed on her cheeks when he moved onto her.

It was undeniable. He wanted her. All of her. Blood. Eyes. Lips. _Heart._

Immediately, he pushed himself off her and she slumped to the ground on her knees, her eyes staring at the ground lifelessly, tears still pouring from her wide, gray eyes and her shoulders trembling. Ulquiorra stared down at her quivering form; long strands of caramel hair slipped off her shoulder and curtained her face from him.

But he couldn't have her.

She was the personification of all that was good. An angel, a blessing; hope, justice, love, compassion. And what was he? Such intangible things had never prevented him from reaching for his desires. And yet here she was. Her blood was running cold through her and in his palm, viscous and burgundy, but she was still alive. Why?

That was it. She was too pure for him. If he had her now, could he restrain himself from consuming her entire existence? He would want more, but not just any soul. He would want more of her, but he had never met anyone else with a heart as kind and pure as hers. He was torn between quelling his insatiable lust to taste her and escaping from an inevitable path of even more suffering.

_Nihility is having nothing, and having nothing to lose.  
If that isn't "happiness", then what is?_

Orihime lifted her head up and was caught yet again by the cold, calculating gaze of his green eyes. There was nothing there though, nothing in his expression. His frown had deepened and his hand, which harbored droplets of her coagulated blood, was still suspended in the air as if he were confused about something.

She stood up and fled, flying past the large wooden doors of Ulquiorra's room. Her tears continued to fall as she sniffled her way blindly to the exit. She shut her eyes, avoiding the stares of the broken angels. Laughing. They were laughing at her. Yes, she could see them in her mind. Those cold statues were cackling at her, their sharp fangs protruding from their stone masks as they jeered at her. She sobbed aloud, digging the heels of her palms into her eyes to stifle the pain she felt throbbing inside her head.

How could she be so stupid? What was she expecting coming here? She thought maybe she could be friends with Ulquiorra and help him somehow. She wanted… she wanted… Was that what she desired? The hammering physical pain on her gut was constantly reminding her of Ulquiorra's hard demeanor. By the way he touched her, it almost seemed like he wanted her, but then he hurt her.

"Yo, Orihime! I was just abou—" she pushed by Grimmjow rudely without looking back and he staggered on his feet taken by surprise. The blue-haired guy only shrugged and continued to saunter over to Ulquiorra's room, his hands in his pockets as he slouched.

"Huh. Hey Ulquiorra, what's her deal?" He asked the dark room when he entered without a knock. No response. It was so tranquil, the silence was buzzing in his ears, "Hey! Don't ignore me, you jackass! I know you're here!"

Something that sounded ceramic crashed loudly against the wall next to his head and shattered into a hundred pieces. Grimmjow's blue eyes switched to the source and found Ulquiorra leaning against the wall, his eyes shut in frustration. The dark-haired boy picked up another piece of furniture that was already broken and threw it across the room angrily. Handling the broken shards managed to tear through his hierro and blood dripped from his fingertips. Unknown to Grimmjow was that it was also Orihime's blood in Ulquiorra's palm.

Ulquiorra continued to ignore Grimmjow and punched the wall behind him. The barricade gave way and he managed to puncture right through it.

"Whoa man, simmer down," Grimmjow grabbed Ulquiorra entire shaggy head into his large palm.

"Unhand, Grimmjow, or God knows I will—"

"Look, asshole. I don't care about your inner conflict or whatever shit you're PMSing about, but earlier Orihime said she was being followed."

Ulquiorra stopped resisting, stilling under Grimmjow's hand.

"We smelled a Hollow on her."

"It doesn't concern me," he shrugged out of Grimmjow's grip and began to walk away from him, shoving his gloved hands into his pockets.

"Tch. Whatever. I know you're into her. I was gonna warn you in case you didn't want her to go home _alone_," Grimmjow shoved his hands into his pockets and began to exit, "Can't believe you just let her go, but I guess you want her dead anyway," he muttered right before Ulquiorra lost sight of him in the hallway.

His clenched his hands in his pockets and gritted his teeth, but his stoic expression never wavered.

…

Orihime dragged her feet back home, her hand placed delicately on her stomach. The bleeding had stopped, but the pain had yet to subside. The swelling pain did nothing to calm the torrent of confusion tearing her brain apart and aching in her chest. The cold, late autumn wind picked up, billowing her skirt around the ankles of her boots.

She had taken a taxi out of the forest since it was way too scary for her to be treading through it, but she decided to walk the rest home instead of taking the bus. The streets were empty and no living being was in sight. The only sound was the whistling of wind in her ears. The moonlight was almost nonexistent, having been covered by what seemed to be rainclouds. Street lamps flickered beside her and stoplights changed for no vehicle.

'_Screw,the stalker,' _she sniffled. The naïve girl couldn't give a damn about the dark presence prickling at her consciousness once again, '_I'm so upset I feel like I can beat someone up! Preferably Ulquiorra but…_"

"Well, well! If it isn't batboy's new _pet. _Alone and _vulnerable."_

The young girl lifted her head up to see a dark silhouette perched atop the railing of a one-story building next to her. Slowly, the clouds obscuring the full moon parted to shed light and she gasped as the face was revealed.

No, it wasn't a face. It was masked. _And hideous._

A Hollow?

It didn't look like Ulquiorra or Nel, or any Hollow she had met. This one was large; it didn't seem to have a body, only a large, stark-white mask and long purple tentacles that squirmed and twisted around. Clearly seeing it now, it did not rest on anything, but instead hovered in the air. Orihime felt the air escape from her lungs and she was frozen in her step.

'Move, _move,'_ she silently pleaded her body. She had spoken too soon about beating anything that got in her way. Orihime was definitely not prepared in dealing with a monster.

"My name is the Numb Chandelier and I am going to eat you!" the being snarled as it approached Orihime by levitation, "Though, fighting is not exactly my style."

"I can smell that monster all over you, _girl_," it cackled maliciously as it continued speaking, "You must be something precious to have him all over you and not be dead!"

"W-what do you mean?" Orihime sputtered.

"Enough talk!" It lunged forward as it spat toxic-green acid on Orihime's arms. A sound of discomfort escaped from her lips as she felt the liquid seep through her jacket and nip at her skin. The pain was sharp, but it was only temporary. Confused, she glanced down at her arm and found the acid still burning through fabric, but felt nothing else.

Orihime looked back at the octopus-like monster. It looked nothing like Ulquiorra. It wasn't nearly as beautiful as him. Ugly, purple, slimy...

_I shouldn't just be standing here_! Snapping out of her thoughts, she turned and ran the other way as fast as her long, thin legs could go.

"Resistance is futile!" she heard it shrill behind her. She looked over her shoulder to see it hovering over the ground, following her. Suddenly, an invisible force halted her feet and her muscles grew stiff. Orihime couldn't move no matter how much will she forced upon her feet. Her neurons were constantly firing with signals she was not giving.

"W-what's going on? I-I can't move!"

The sinister monster behind her screeched in victory as it neared her, its violet tentacles twisting violently around it.

Before she realized it, her own slender fingers were at her throat, her nails piercing the soft flesh of her neck. Her own body was turning against her and no matter how much she coerced her hands to let go, it wouldn't budge. Numb Chandelier laughed loudly as she reveled in the show of watching Orihime squirm uselessly while she choked herself.

"If only you could see how pathetic you look!"

Was this how she was going to die? 18 year-old Inoue Orihime Committed Suicide by Choking Herself? Tears began to prickle in her eyes when she felt the blood still and collect in her face, turning her skin blue and purple from the lack of oxygen. Her heart pumped faster in fear and desperation, but her arms still refused to submit to her whim.

"A_HHHHhh_!"

The invisible strings that manipulated her body immediately snapped and she fell on her knees, clutching and rubbing at her throat as she gagged for air. She turned around to see what had happened and her gray eyes widened at the sight.

Before her stood Ulquiorra Cifer, his ebony, dragon-like wings encasing her in darkness and absorbing all the moonlight in its sorrowful beauty. His whip-like tail danced around him as he stood offensively, his back facing her. His body was gorgeous. Marble-smooth muscles rippled with every motion, broad shoulders spoke volumes of strength, his long black hair reflecting the white light of the night.

In his black talons were the tentacles of Numb Chandelier, blood pouring from the area he slashed or pulled at. Beyond him lay the monster, crawling towards him in a futile attempt to attack. He tossed the bloody appendages aside and they evaporated into ash.

"How dare you kill your kin for a _human_ girl!"

"Do not associate me with the likes of you trash," he sprinted forward and planted a clawed foot on its mask, embedding it forcefully into the dirt. It squirmed and shrieked at him as it tried to resist, but with his immense reiatsu, any retorting was futile.

Despite the creature being much larger than him, he picked up the heap of tentacles with both his hands and began to rip it slowly apart. Its screaming grew louder, echoing off the walls of buildings and causing the street lamps to go haywire. Blood began to spurt from its opening wounds and with one final tug, he tore Numb Chandelier in two, a shower of scarlet liquid raining on his head and shoulders. The black demon threw the body parts aside unceremoniously and it too dissipated into ash.

Orihime stared wide-eyed at him from where she sat, but he didn't turn around to look at her.

After a few more minutes of silence, Orihime gathered the strength to stand up and she walked over to the blood-soaked Hollow.

"Ul-Ulquiorra?" she placed her hand on his shoulder. She was crying profusely now, her adrenaline having subsided and realization that she was about to die hitting her hard. Orihime wrapped her arms around his torso, under his wings and sobbed into his back, "I-I was so s-scared."

Ulquiorra stood unflinching, allowing the girl to hug him, but his amber eyes were wide with surprise. Even in this form, the girl was not afraid of him. She continued to bury her head into his hard back, her hair and face smeared with gory blood, but she seemed to not care. She continued to sob and wail, her crystalline tears mixing with crimson, and Ulquiorra had no clue as to why she was reacting this way. Orihime feared the Numb Chandelier and yet here she was being intimate with him…

"_I think I like you" is what she said that night.  
_

Ulquiorra's wide, green orbs flickered with revelation. Swiftly, he turned around to face her, but Orihime had lowered her head, her messy brown-red locks cascading over her face. Her shoulders shuddered slightly as she occasionally sniffled.

"Do you have any relatives?" he watched her shake her head lazily.

"Keep your eyes closed."

As soon as she heard the low, husky response, Orihime snapped her head up, but her vision was immediately blocked out by his hand. _It's even warmer without his gloves_, she mused. She wanted to take a peek at his face, just this once, without his mask. Beneath that false, hardened disguise.

"Ulquiorra, I want to see you."

"No."

Orihime squeaked a bit when she felt the ground beneath her fall, but then she realized Ulquiorra had scooped her up in his arms, one of his furry arms cradled her head so he could still block her view and the other underneath her knees. She felt her cheeks grow warm and her heart flutter in excitement. Once again, she felt gravity falter and the sound of flapping wings resonated into her ears. Ulquiorra still had his hand over her eyes so she couldn't see, but at that moment she didn't mind. She felt safe curled up next to him.

The air was cold as he rose higher, biting at her vulnerable cheeks and nose. She sneezed quietly. Orihime felt her cheeks erupt in flames when Ulquiorra somehow shifted her scarf up to cover her nose more. Did he use his teeth?

"Thank you, Ulquiorra," Orihime muffled through the cloth, her face flushed.

She wasn't sure if he heard her because the only response was the spontaneous flapping of wings and the roaring of the wind as they flew through the night sky, but it wouldn't matter. She swore she would show her gratitude somehow.

…

Arriving back at Las Noches, his mask had refabricated itself around his eyes so he released his hold on her, gently placing her on her feet. She turned around at him, her eyes sparkling with admiration.

Ulquiorra looked back at her and frowned deeper. The girl was misunderstanding him. Surely she doesn't think he's her prince now, does she?

"Don't mistake my intentions as an act of kindness, onna," he began to walk to the lobby, Orihime trailing behind him. Her smile faltered as she heard his words.

'_Of course… He must have some hidden reason to why he saved me…_," Orihime thought pessimistically. She shook her head vigorously, "_Don't let it get to you, Hime! You still owe him one!_"

"Ulquiorra, why did you bring me back here?"

He led her to a room in the hallway and opened the door for her. She stepped in and her gray eyes twinkled with awe. It was a luxurious room: a queen-sized bed with velvet curtains at its perimeter, similar curtains with golden tassels draped the myriads of rectangular floor-to-ceiling windows that adorned the boundaries of the room; a miniature chandelier illuminated the old room with ambience, and a large couch with a matching glass coffee table in the middle. A wooden writing desk sat in the corner, books decorating its attached shelf. Orihime couldn't wait to wash off all this blood that had caked on her in a grandeur shower.

"It's beautiful," she whispered.

"You can stay here until you feel safe enough to return home. There are robes in the drawer."

She turned around to face him, "You could have just brought me home… I'll be okay."

"Don't be absurd. Numb Chandelier is not the only Hollow out there."

Orihime nodded. She supposed she could stay for the night. Ulquiorra watched as the girl kicked off her boots and placed them to the side, away from the entrance, and jump onto the bed. She bounced happily on it, throwing surplus of pillows into the air like a child. The masked boy began to turn away to head to his own room when he heard her voice call out to him.

"Wait…" Orihime gazed at him with wide and curious silver eyes. Her tears had made her cheeks shiny and glow with an innocent light. He walked over to her and she smiled up at him from where she sat. She stretched her dainty fingers out and grabbed a handful of his coat.

"Stay with me? I'm still a little… scared of being alone."

Ulquiorra's gaze hardened, trying to interpret her vehement expressions. She was becoming too familiar with him and it unsettled him. He disliked the way the girl seemed to elicit strange emotions hidden deeply under his apathetic disposition and he refused to think about his impulsive decision to save her knowing he would only confuse himself more.

He decided that the answers would come to him sooner or later as long as the girl followed him. Ulquiorra could see it in her eyes now that she would not back down on her promise.

Indifferent, he turned on his heel and headed out, slamming the door behind him to leave Orihime cold and mute on her bed.

Her hand was still outstretched reaching towards Ulquiorra, but the only thing that held her hand now was emptiness.

* * *

**I would have made this into two chapters, but I figured you guys would be sick of cliffhangers hehe~**

**Hope you guys liked this chapter!  
So will Orihime decide to live under the same roof as Ulquiorra? Can she uncover his past and also the other Arrancars? Stay tuned and you will watch Orihime unfold each unique mystery of Las Noches!**

**Please please please leave a review! It makes me not-so-lazy and work on this haha. Truthfully, without your awesome reviews, you wouldn't be getting so many updates... But yes! Please leave a review, they seriously make me smile and I read each one of them twice or more!  
**


	8. Turning Tables

"W-what do you mean I can't leave?!" Orihime shrilled at the stoic boy in front of her.

It was a rude awakening. Inoue Orihime was sleeping peacefully atop her cloud-like mattress when she was rudely dragged off the bed along with the comforter and sent sprawling to the floor in a heap of confusion and stinging pain.

Judging by the dim lighting of the ceiling lights and the dark shadows that grew in its wake even though the window curtains were slightly drawn to allow moonlight through, Orihime perceived that it was very late at night. Or early morning.

Now she was looking up at Ulquiorra with large, doe-like gray eyes from her position on the floor. She clutched the large comforter that pooled around her scantily clad body within her pale, shivering hands. Her thin, silk robe slipped off her shoulders, showing a miniscule amount of pale, dewy skin. Orihime shivered involuntarily, the stale, cold air of the room hitting her bare flesh with as much animosity as the realization that tugged her into further consciousness.

Ulquiorra's frown deepened, highly perturbed by the sight of seeing her sit on the floor like some weakened, pathetic creature. Having the silken cloth fall just slightly off the angles of her shoulders allowed his eyes to graze over the long length of her vulnerable, milky neck. Vaguely, just vaguely, he could see the two small, pink scars of a puncture wound right above the dip of her collarbone. About the size of his fangs. With the average human eyesight, the mark would have been easily overlooked.

"Are you deaf? Or do I really have to repeat myself? You have no choice, Inoue Orihime. You will stay here in Las Noches," he continued to stare down at her, his emotionless, green eyes steadfast and unforgiving. His beautiful, ceramic mask casted a deep and dark shadow under the slits, making him look even more menacing as he glowered at her.

"Wait! Why?!"

It _had_ to be a joke… right? But Orihime knew better than to think of someone like Ulquiorra Cifer cracking jokes first thing in the morning. It was that look in his eyes that sent chills down her spine. It was too sudden.

"It is undeniable that you harbor a worthy power with utmost potential."

"…Power?" _Like Ichigo and Rukia?_

"It is latent, but you have it nonetheless. When the time comes, you will be of service to me."

"I refuse," the young woman gripped the sheets harder against her chest, her eyes glaring defiantly into Ulquiorra's. She had come here of her own will. She had planned to save him. To save everyone. But she wasn't going to be forced to do anything otherwise. Orihime didn't want to get caught up in this war between the Hollows and Shinigami. In fact, she wanted to avoid all of that if possible.

"Enough," swiftly, he raised his hand and slipped his pale fingers into the hole of his mask and dug them into the dip of his eye socket. Horrified, Orihime didn't do anything to restrain a disgusted gasp as she watched him remove his eyeball, nor the sickened expression that had contorted her features when he crushed the organ within his palm with a nauseating squelch.

"'Yes' will be the next word you will speak. Saying anything else will result in a swift death."

Orihime looked back into his face, the sight of his empty eye socket churning her stomach acid to the brink of vomiting, but his face was unchanging.

"No, not for you, but for your nakama."

The compressed eyeball's fragments had dissipated into the air, surrounding her in sparkling, green mist. Suddenly, images of her friends flooded into her mind, restricting air from entering her lungs in profound panic. It was like an unseeing vector had pressed against her throat, suffocating her with dread and fear.

In her mind played a scene of Kurosaki Ichigo and Kuchiki Rukia struggling against what seemed to be a blue-haired, panther-like man. The feline beast lurched his arm forward and simply grasped Rukia's head with one hand as if she were a mere doll. Lifting her body off of the ground, he began to crush her tiny head in his palm. Ichigo sat helpless at the sidelines with torment swimming in his chocolate eyes, watching Rukia suffer as he called out her name over and over again.

'_An… illusion? No. This is much too real! Is this really happening? What's going on?!'_

The petite Shinigami's piercing screams of agony swirled and diminished into an echo in her head, wheeling her into a dizzying spell, but then the scene switched over to her friends Ishida Uryuu and Yasutora Sado face down on the ground.

'_Ishida-kun and Sado-kun are mixed up with this too?!' she thought dreadfully._ If it weren't for the images of a foot smashing on top of Uryuu's dark head, the force causing his head to indent the hard earth beneath his face and the unmoving, brown-haired, tan body beside him, Orihime would have envied the fact that she had been the last one informed of this foreign world.

But this was real. This was happening. She could feel their pain in her heart. When? How?

"The events you have seen… occurred yesterday afternoon," Ulquiorra answered as though reading her mind, "And the actions you see here will be repeated relentlessly."

As quickly as it came, the visions ceased and Orihime gasped aloud from being sharply released by that invisible grip. Inhaling large quantities of air to make up for the breathless seconds she spent trapped within the nightmare, tears began to surface and border the rim of her eyes. She gritted her teeth and creased her brow as she gaped at Ulquiorra.

"Don't hurt them anymore… please _stop_," she managed to breathe out, "It's me you want, right?"

"You are correct," he slid his hand back into his pocket and took something out. Narrowing her eyes to focus her vision on it, she could see that it was a simple, silver bracelet. He held it out for her to take, but she continued to stare at him with disbelief.

"But what about my school? I mean… I need to study so I can have a nice jo—"

Her friends. Her innocent friends were suffering because of her. She was the only one that could help them and she felt that her time of need had finally come. This was her destiny and she will gladly shoulder it if it meant keeping her friends safe.

"This is not a request. This is an order. Come with me… _onna._"

…

Content with her answer, the masked boy turned away from her and left her room, slamming the door shut behind him. He rounded the corner of the hallway and entered the lobby, the soft soles of his shoes clacking mutedly against the wooden floorboards. He dug his hands deeper into his pockets, his gaze hardening at the distance in front of him as he recalled his recent encounter with the girl.

Unimpressive, fragile, pathetic, useless, obnoxious but undeniably beautiful. Inoue Orihime was the embodiment of naivety and innocence. Such a thing would surely drive him to the edge of insanity, but he had not lied to her. The girl harbored a powerful magic within her. It was at the tip of his tongue when he had a taste of her rich, pure blood. At that moment, power had filled him and he had an inkling of what felt like immortality. But he had sensed such power from her long before her had her in his arms; Ulquiorra could see it radiating off of her the instant he first set his eyes on her.

"You know…for someone who claimed to have the girl wrapped around his finger, you sure seemed desperate to keep her just now. Especially with that little skit of you showing her very old memories and not telling her that they were just that," a voice chuckled from a couch turned away from him in the center of the lobby.

"Don't be ridiculous, Szayelaporro," Ulquiorra continued to saunter past the pink-haired scientist's presence.

"She would have stayed even if you didn't do anything. That 'psychological cage' you droned on about yesterday, remember?" he mocked.

Ulquiorra paused in his step.

"I was only insuring that she lend me her power whenever I order to do so. If I had not given her that sense of fear, I would have to depend solely on her will. The girl will now be obliged to do as I tell her."

"Whatever you say, Ulquiorra-_sama _," Szayel hissed with venom in his voice as he waved his hand dismissively at him.

Unlike Grimmjow or Nnoitra, Ulquiorra wasn't one to be easily provoked so he continued on his way back to his room deciding that he should attempt to sleep since strange dreams have been plaguing him recently and try to forget about the woman if even for a minute.

…

Having walked by the store window of a clock shop, Orihime quickly learned that it was 6 o'clock in the morning. On normal Sunday mornings, she would have woken up an hour or two from now to continue living her peaceful, lonely life. But her life was now far from peaceful. Even though she wouldn't be physically alone, being torn away from her friends… her daily events and challenges made her life seem foreign. As if she was watching herself in a dream from a third point of view.

And it was lonely.

Ulquiorra had allowed her to return home to gather her belongings on the condition that she wears the bracelet he had given her. Orihime would have thought it was his strange, excessive way of giving her a gift until the moment she noticed that no living being had noticed her walking down the street. Not so much a glance or sign of acknowledgement. Even when she had bumped into an early morning jogger, they had only paused to look around for the source of the disturbance, but ending up shrugging it away when they did not notice her.

The young, auburn haired girl wrapped her arms around her chest to stave off the chills that frequently racked her body. It was nearing December and the temperature was almost unbearably cold, but she had no choice. The stained and bloody clothes she had worn last night had disappeared overnight while she slept and Ulquiorra had given her no clothes to change into except a robe. Unconsciously, her right hand busied itself by fiddling with the new bracelet that adorned her left wrist. It was thin and simple; a single bangle that had a clasp.

It was then that she realized the bracelet was causing her to be invisible to everyone. She was alone in a world filled with seven billion people.

Then again, Ulquiorra never said she couldn't see anyone one last time. Orihime wasn't sure how long Ulquiorra was planning to keep her holed up, but she wasn't going to risk anything. By sheer curiosity, Orihime had discovered that the contraption would allow her to ghost through walls and other physical objects when she desired to do so. Keeping this information in mind, she had just the person in mind that she wanted to see before she would leave everything behind.

'_Maybe I should write a letter…_," she mused as she dragged her feet into her apartment, but she resulted into not doing so, concluding that leaving something behind would only cause her friends to worry about her.

Of course Orihime had considered throwing the bracelet away and abandoning her promise to Ulquiorra, but flashes of seeing her friends hurt crossed her mind and she decided she would have none of it.

After she had retrieved her things, she began to walk towards the small, humble Kurosaki Clinic. Quietly, although she knew no one would be able to hear her movements anyway, she rested her luggage next to the front door so she could retrieve it when she was finished with her business. She took a few moments to press her ear against the door and listen for any disturbances from within. Sensing that no one was awake and wandering around inside the house, she slipped through past the front door and found herself standing in front of Ichigo's closed room door.

'_Oh God, what am I doing?!' _she fussed silently, '_I'm trespassing and now I'm…_'

Orihime exhaled and inhaled deeply, holding her breath, then proceeding to walk into his room to find him slumbering peacefully in his sleep. The orange-haired Shinigami was wrapped in bandages, his breathing heavy as he dreamed of nothingness.

She was already here and this might just be her last window of opportunity to voice to him how she felt. Even if he couldn't hear her, she wanted to relieve herself of the burden born from her unrequited love for him.

…

Orihime trudged her way back to Las Noches with baggage in tow, dragging scratchily against the cement pavement of the sidewalk. Daylight was fast approaching, but it wouldn't matter. She was invisible to the world and no one would hear her last words. She had nothing, yet everything to fear.

About a half mile through the forest, she finally reached her destination.

Orihime paused a good distance away from the building, admiring the exterior design of the hotel. She had only been to the hotel during the night so details of its architectural splendor were amiss in the darkness. The hotel - actually a mansion, looked much larger than she expected. And older. Although she had concluded that the hotel looked too suspicious to be renting a room from the night earlier, looking at it now had her realize she had made the obvious mistake of speaking too soon.

"Orihime-chan!"

Orihime quickly snapped out of her thoughts and focused on the bright-eyed woman standing before her.

"Orihime-chaaan!" she called again, waving her hand at her in the distance. She stood at the entrance in front of the large, oak doors, "You must be cold. Come inside and let's get you changed."

"Y-yeah…" _she can see me? Ah… maybe it has something to do with her being a Hollow… Oh that's right. She can't leave Ulquiorra's property._

Back in her room, Orihime felt completely lifeless. She slowly retook her surroundings, feeling a completely different vibe from the environment. Last night, she felt luxury, but today everything felt foreign. In her eyes, all the velvet, burgundy, cherry-colored furnishings melted into a monochrome of black and white. She was in jail. And this was her cell.

"Orihime-chan?" she heard a soft, feminine voice call from behind the door. Despite Orihime's silent reply, Nel pushed the door slightly and let herself in, pushing in a tray of food, "Here's your breakfast."

Orihime frowned slightly, "Thank you, Nel-san, but I didn't mean to trouble you. I could have fixed something for myself." In fact, she preferred it that way since she had yet to meet anyone who shared the same taste preferences as her.

Nel sadly shook her head, "Ulquiorra… doesn't want you to leave this room."

The teal-haired girl winced as she watched Orihime stiffen at her words. Then next thing she knew, she was at the young girl's side, consoling her as sobs racked through her body uncontrollably. Nel felt a small sense of panic wash through her as she felt the girl buckling into depression right in her arms, crumbling into a pile of hopelessness and despair. Holding Orihime now reminded Nel of someone… someone very important to her. Herself?

"Oh… Orihime-chan…" Nel didn't know what to say. The brown-eyed girl was never really one to go to for pity and she also lacked experience with taking to other girls let alone humans.

"I-I know I'm doing this for my-" she took a few moments to hiccup for breath in the middle of her sentence, "-friends, but I can't help but feel so…" another sniffle, "…alone."

"Are you scared?"

At this point, Orihime's tears had slowed to a minimum and she was able to gain her bearings, "…No, I'm not scared. I guess I just feel trapped."

Nel listened with no response.

"Probably…" Orihime giggled half-heartedly, "My friends will get mad at me… for not believing in them. For endangering myself instead. But… this is something I have to do."

She removed herself from Nel's soaked shirt and leaned back, wobbling slightly on her feet. Then she took a few steps back and seated herself atop her crimson-decorated bed. Gripping the sheets tightly, a new stream of tears began to flow from her eyes, but this time, her face was engraved with an estranged smile.

"I feel so trapped," she tried to say with a large smile, despite the dribble of snot that hung from her nostrils and the redness surrounding her large, silver pupils. She lowered her head, her golden-red hair draping over her face and falling from her shoulders like liquid fire.

"Orihime…chan…" Nel frowned. She also didn't know what to say because she was partially thrilled to have Orihime stay at Las Noches. Watching her struggle to be strong; Nel could only be overcome with guilt. But…

"I don't know how long Ulquiorra wants to keep you here… but I think I know what can get you out of here," Orihime looked up and stared at Nel with wide, watery eyes as if Nel had suddenly grown wings.

"Our masks," Nel answered Orihime's unspoken question.

Color began to seep back into her face as her eyes filled with revelation, "The curse… Of course! If I can figure it out, then you guys will never have to fight against the Shinigami ever again. No one… will get hurt, right?" Nel nodded, further encouraging her optimism.

A moment of silence filled the room, but it was not awkward due to each girl being lost in their thoughts.

'_This… mask_,' unconsciously, Nel placed a hand on the edge on the rough object resting on her head, '_Nnoitra…'_

"Ah! Nnoitra!"

"Huh?" Orihime was snapped out of her musings and gave Nel a questioning expression. Nel smiled kindly at her, glad to see the tears had stopped and her steel-colored eyes now glinting with a sliver of hope.

"Sorry, I just remembered Nnoitra needed me for something. I've got to go, Orihime-chan. When you're finished eating, you can just leave your tray and I'll have someone pick it up later."

"Nnoitra-san 'needs' you?" somehow, Nel's choice of words seemed off and Orihime couldn't help but question them.

"He probably just wants me to wash the equipment and dishes he used," she laughed softly.

"Hmm, but couldn't he just do it himself? Or have someone else? Why you?"

Nel blinked blankly at her, "I… never really thought about it honestly."

"Now that I think about it, is there something between you two?"

"What? No," Nel frowned. She shifted her feet uncomfortably, blushing slightly at the current topic. No one had addressed her and Nnoitra as… an _item_, "I'm pretty sure it's just because he hates me and he knows he has me wrapped around his finger."

"So you like him?"

"No, he's… a precious friend to me."

"I don't understand," and she didn't. The label 'friend' hardly seemed appropriate for the slim and sinister man.

Nel turned around and began to head to the door, "I'll come back in time for your lunch."

Orihime wanted to reach out to her, not only because she knew she would end up being alone without her, but curiosity also had snared her at the tongue with the topic of Nel and Nnoitra. Getting to know each of Ulquiorra's comrades was her best bet into learning how to lift the spell. Even if it meant getting personal. Maybe she could find clues, piece them together… and… well, fix them?

She was at a loss.

"Nel-san."

Nel tilted her head back to acknowledge her, "Yes?"

"…Thank you," Orihime beamed at her with a bright smile. This time it had looked sincere.

After Nel had left, Orihime succumbed to her distraught. It had started as small whimpering and then escalated into drawled out cries of misery. She didn't bother eating; food was the furthest subject from her mind for once. Instead she turned her head around to look out the large window facing the courtyard.

The sun was high enough to have white light flooding into her room, completely ridding the purpose of having the interior lights on.

It was at that moment that God decided to rain down upon the earth with His heavenly magic. Flurries of white drifted down like cotton balls in the wind, pattering lightly against her window. Usually the sight of snow filled her with a sense of happiness, a fleeting moment of bliss and enlightenment at the sight of nature's gift.

But her life was different now.

Orihime slipped underneath her covers and curled into a small fetal position. Wrapping her arms around her knees, she exhaled softly under her breath as she watched through the window as the frozen particles of water complete their journey to the ground.

* * *

**Finally an update! Sorry for not updating very fast on this one. Honestly, I was going through a writer's block and this one was the hardest hurdle yet! But now that me and my trusty beta have overcome it, I should be updating faster now~**

**Yes, yes. It's another transition chapter and no fluff sorry. Blah. But everything is set and the pieces should play out for themselves starting... next chapter!**

**_Please review and Happy New Year_!**


	9. Warmth and Desire

**In about 2 or 3 chapters, the writing will be switched from T to M! Please be aware of that if you're following this story!**

**This chapter is already a bit spicy. I did my best to keep the heat down... for now!  
**

* * *

A few days had passed and the girl had refused to remove herself from under the comforter. When Nel had reported to him of her behavior, he took it upon himself to provide her with the necessities himself.

She had often declined his order to have her eat in front of him and he had let it slide before, knowing fully well she would be inclined to eat without his presence looming over her, but her attitude was infuriating.

The girl known as Inoue Orihime had lost that beautiful gleam in her silver eyes, the shine in her crimson-brown hair gone all the same. She refused to look him in the eye, speaking and answering only when forced to. Though Ulquiorra had preferred it that way, he had begun to feel as though the woman sitting before him was no longer the Inoue Orihime that had gradually taken his interest.

It wasn't the food. Every plate was wiped clean unceremoniously as if eating were a favored hobby of hers. Trails of a bare finger being used as a utensil swiped the grease and sauce to the plate's former cleanliness. Yet, she was losing the bronze luster of her skin. And Ulquiorra had lost count of the days from when he had last witnessed her smile.

Her shoulders were slumped over and her brilliant hair was messy, and though her eyes always held a sign of spilling tears, they never once did succumb to the force of gravity. At least not in front of him. Her attempt at being strong only in his presence further fueled his irritation. She already looked pathetic. Crying could not make her look any worse to him.

"Get up," he kicked her roughly on the side, rousing her from whatever pathetic dream the human was lost in.

Orihime sat up groggily and began to rub at the area of her body where Ulquiorra had left a bruise. Her eyes were half-lidded as she stared blankly at him.

"Did you have to kick me?" she mumbled, wincing as she rubbed at the tender flesh underneath her ribs.

The blanket fell from her torso to reveal the white, translucent excuse of a night gown that she wore every night. The edge of the gown barely concealing the rounded plump of her breast was decorated with lace, the feeble straps often slid from her shoulders whenever she wasn't being careful. Stealing a glance, he could see much more of her, but doing so made him feel uncomfortable in some… areas. Ulquiorra insisted that she would dress inappropriately, but the girl remained unresponsive on the subject. He took it as a silent act of rebellion and noted that he would take care of that issue at a later time.

"You will eat," he said slowly, ignoring her pitiful antics. The raven-haired boy observed her, examining the way her pale, pink lips would quiver just slightly when he spoke, the way her fragile body would shudder slightly as he approached her.

Color drained from her face and Orihime suddenly found it hard to swallow the small ball of saliva stuck in her throat, "I don't want it."

"You're annoying me," Ulquiorra stepped towards her, his hands deep in his pockets. The fiery, green orbs burning cold with such intensity she was sure he was trying to brand her. He planted his feet right at the edge of her bed, towering over her and blocking out the ceiling light. Orihime wrenched her head away to avert his heated stare, her eyes quivering in their sockets.

"Until the time comes, your duty towards me is to stay alive."

She remained unmoving, her jaw tense with frustration and fear. This boy was not the Ulquiorra who had waltzed with her underneath the brilliant, ambient lights of the ballroom. He was not the man who had cradled her in his arms as she struggled to breathe out a promise.

Who was he?

Ulquiorra was a Hollow. A demon who feasted on the souls and hearts of innocent people. And he was preparing himself and his Fraccion for the war with the Shinigami; the date of the battle approaching fast.

"Shall I force it down your throat?" Ulquiorra greatly disliked the way she had angled her head away from him, finding that he much preferred to watch her face contort with sadness and fear whenever he addressed her.

To probe his annoyance even further, she tilted her head farther away from him, her torso slightly twisted as she ignored him. Ulquiorra's jaw was set stiffly as his eyes grazed along the curve of her side, her new position giving him the sweet view of her feminine figure.

Suddenly, angry at himself for letting himself get distracted, he lunged out his hand and cupped Orihime's chin, roughly swinging her head around so she would face him. She gasped as he maneuvered her with such swiftness; she was worried for a moment that he would have snapped her head off.

Before she realized it, her vision was clouded with a deep viridian color. Ulquiorra had closed the distance between their faces, his lips hovering just inches from her own. Immediately conscious of his close proximity, she licked her lips to soothe the dry and crackled skin there and immediately flushed when she realized that for a second she thought Ulquiorra was about to kiss her.

But lost in his eyes, she knew his intentions were far from that.

"Would you like to be strapped down and given IVs?"

As if to emphasize his words, Orihime felt his gloved fingers skim down the bare length of her arm and hover right above her wrist. As he quietly delved into her eyes, he fingered the silver bracelet that still encased her fragile wrist.

She couldn't find the strength to breathe. Her mind was filled with him. That endless pool of dull green. His soft, alluring touch left her breathless for more. His slow, rhythmic breathing, his dark, musky scent; the way his raven-black hair fell from his shoulders and acted as a curtain of darkness to keep her within his world and out of hers.

The soft and even _thump, thump, thump_ of his heart. And those dark lips that were set in an everlasting, dismal frown.

He was hypnotizing.

Ulquiorra leaned back, swiftly releasing his hold on her chin and placed his hand back into his trousers.

"It doesn't matter either way. I am not here to pamper you."

Orihime had her eyes set on him now, steel-gray eyes searching for that same spell his eyes had casted on her only moments ago. But the moment had vanished and she was left cold and detached in his shadow.

"I don't understand you. Why do you attempt to protect them when the Shinigami have hurt you?"

Orihime shut her eyes tightly, turning her head and trying to mentally block out his words, "…stop."

"They used you. They poisoned you. Kurosaki Ichigo… _used_ you," he continued to articulate.

"Stop…"

"Why don't you just let them die? Why can't you do that?"

And with that, Orihime was on her feet, her right hand burning from the friction of skin against skin.

Unfazed, Ulquiorra continued to stare down at her, his hands not budging an inch from his pocket even though the welt on his cheek could not burn any hotter than any other injury he had received. The sharp sound was deafening for only a moment, the resonance ringing in his ears like the consistent buzzing of a mosquito.

The chestnut-haired girl's breathing was labored, the adrenaline had run its course throughout her body and she was now glaring at him in animated fervor.

How _dare_ he talk about her friends like that. About Ichigo like he knew him. Maybe they did use her, but for good intentions. She was always optimistic when it came to her nakama. She believed in them. He was a Shinigami… and it was his job to rid the world of cruel, evil creatures like Ulquiorra.

But was he mad? As usual, she couldn't read a single hint of emotion in his eyes. Not even a twitch of his lips or a wrinkle of his brow. Nothing.

The pale, masked boy turned on his heel and began to exit from her room without acknowledging her impulsive reaction. The long tails of his black coat swished behind him as he turned, trailing in his wake.

"I will return in an hour. If you have not eaten your food, I will tie you down and force it down your throat. Keep that in mind."

She stared at his retreating back, relief washing through her body and color flooding their way back into her face.

"And prepare yourself to go out."

…

"I'm coming in."

When Ulquiorra entered, Orihime was standing in front of the window as she brushed her hair in an absentminded fashion. Looking at her side, the tray of food sitting on her nightstand was wiped clean as usual. Orihime didn't so much as acknowledge him, continuing to brush her hair mechanically. His eyes slowly digested every detail of her outfit, his frown deepening in disapproval knowing that she would need more layers.

Nearing her, Ulquiorra could almost see a glint of happiness in her silver eyes, but quickly found himself mistaken as he realized that it was only the reflection of the snow that drifted silently outside.

Quietly, she placed her brush down on her nightstand and turned around to face Ulquiorra. With a sigh as soft as the fluttering of a butterfly's wings, she fixated those dull, monochrome gray on his vivid green. Underneath her eyes were dark circles and signs of wear.

"So where are we going, Ulquiorra-sama?" she inquired, her voice breathy as if she hadn't spoken in days. Though despite all the signs of misery, he could see a flicker of determination in the depths of her eyes.

"Ulquiorra."

Orihime continued to stare at him.

"You'll only address me as 'Ulquiorra'."

"O-oh… right," bashful that she had disappointed him yet again, she averted her gaze, but Ulquiorra had to assume there was much to her action than that. There was a tint of red blooming on her cheeks. Almost the lightest shade of pink, but it was there nonetheless. He decided not to muse over it any longer.

"So… where are we going?"

His cold stare was unflinching as he spoke, "I will allow you to wander around Las Noches-" Ulquiorra immediately began to see Orihime's eyes sparkle with joy, "-but not without an chaperon."

Orihime's sense of delight had wilted slightly, but not fully. It had been so long that she had seen anything past the bleak red and gold of her room that any opportunity would do. If Nel could escort her, that wouldn't be so bad either. Speaking of Nel…

"Where is Nel-san?" she inquired.

"That is not of your business."

"Is she okay? Is she hurt? Sick?" _Maybe Nnoitra did something to her…_

"Nelliel has been… occupied recently. I will be your escort for today."

"Um… okay."

Orihime fully turned around to face him, the heat rising to her face as she quickly noted his choice of clothes.

It was different. Almost blindingly different. He was wearing a blazer and matching scarf that harmonized with the bottomless emerald of his eyes and black arm warmers and jeans that looked very warm. Everything about his clothes screamed casual and warm, causing Orihime to doubt her own choice of fashion for the day, but was afraid to keep Ulquiorra idling while she changed.

Rarely did he ever dress in anything, but his white button-down, black vest, and dark trousers, and not to mention his permanent mask. Though every now and then when he would check up on her, she had caught a glimpse of him wearing various hues of a button-down shirt and tie, a vest, or even a sweater.

Ulquiorra, on the other hand, had been studying every hint of emotion that surfaced on the girl's features. When she was sad, she would smile. He couldn't understand why the girl would go so far to deny her inner feelings. Was it to prevent others from being concerned about her? She would rather be alone to cry when no one was there to watch than to have anyone worry for her.

Orihime was a strong woman indeed.

And yet, as she silently gazed into his eyes, her face was full of color once more as if she had forgotten that she was trapped here. With him. A _Hollow_. Even more bewildering was that constant presence of pink blossoming on her creamy cheeks whenever she looked at him.

Realizing that they had been staring at each other for quite some time, Ulquiorra coughed awkwardly into his fist to snap Orihime out of her trance. She laughed nervously in response, admiring the way Ulquiorra had shifted his gaze away, shoved his hands deeper into his pockets, and began to walk away. Before catching up to his retreating figure, Orihime wondered for a moment if he turned away to hide his blush.

Boldly, she slipped her right hand into the crook of his left arm and beamed innocently at him when he sent her a wide-eyed expression.

But he didn't pull away. After all, Orihime had stood by Ulquiorra's side just like this many nights ago.

Perhaps she could get to know Ulquiorra Cifer. In spite of everything, he is just a boy. Albeit an emotionally detached one.

…

Hand in arm, they walked through the hotel corridors silently. The only sound were the echoing clicks of Orihime's heels against the wooden floorings and her occasional coos of awe whenever she laid her eyes upon something amusing like the intricate moldings of the lobby.

Orihime really had no clue where Ulquiorra was taking her, but she was only going to assume he was giving her a tour of his home. Though as large as it was, not a single soul could be heard.

They continued to walk through one of the many hallways at a leisurely pace until Orihime heard someone singing. At the first comprehensible note, she had frozen in her step, intently listening to that angelic voice. It seemed to be of a foreign language, maybe German, so she couldn't decipher the song. The source of the music had to be coming from one of the rooms in the hallway, but the corridor was polished so smoothly, the soft echoes rebounded off the walls, giving her a false sense of its origin, and enveloped her in a blanket of light and warmth.

She regained her step with Ulquiorra silently obliging to her movements and peered through every room they passed to see if she could get a glimpse of whoever was singing.

"Who is that?" she finally asked him, "What a soft voice…"

"Nel," he answered quite plainly, his gaze never leaving the distance that lay ahead of him.

The song grew louder as she approached a certain room and Orihime slowed down in her step. Reaching the open door, she nosily stuck her head in and looked around.

On a bed similar to hers sat the aquamarine-haired girl, her head angled down as she combed her fingers through the ebony locks of Nnoitra. Orihime paused and watched, mesmerized by the sight.

With his lanky body sprawled on her bed, Nnoitra had laid his head on Nel's lap, his eyes peacefully closed and his right leg propped up as he hummed quietly along with Nel. His frown was set deep, but Nel's was gentle and warm, her fingers just the same as she lovingly groomed his long bangs.

So this is how Nel would sing to Nnoitra. It was no wonder that the brusque man would bend his knee to hear that voice. It seemed extremely uncharacteristic of him to let his guard down and share such a serene and sweet moment with Nel, but Orihime had a feeling there was more to their twisted relationship than that.

Orihime began to sway unconsciously, her eyes closed and her lips curled upwards as she listened from the shadows. Having grown bored, Ulquiorra shifted his arm slightly, tugging her out of her trance once more.

"O-oh sorry. I got carried away," she whispered, careful not to disturb their moment.

Quietly, they trudged away and down the hallway reaching a transparent glass door with a glowing Exit sign above it. Ulquiorra removed a hand from his pocket and pushed the door open, letting Orihime through first.

Immediately, she was drowning in bright light, her eyes squeezed shut as her sight struggled for sensory equilibrium. Gradually, she opened her eyes, still squinting at the unrelenting white.

"Oh!" She felt something tap her head once and then again not long after on her nose. With wide, open silver eyes, she could see that it was snowing. Actually, it had stopped snowing, but the ground was well blanketed by a thick layer of the flakes. The wind was strong and picked up the loose, top layer of snow that hadn't quite settled yet. It looked like it was snowing from the ground up.

They were in the garden; the once green landscape that bordered the back of the Las Noches was blanketed in icy bliss. Perched on the fountain, the gargoyles no longer spewed water from their mouths, but in the light, they looked much less intimidating.

Swiping at her nose, she felt melted ice dribble down her fingertips.

"Look, Ulquiorra! It's snowing!" Orihime began to twirl and dance with the flurry of snow, her feet picking more up and sending them flying in all directions.

"I can see that," he stated.

Suddenly, he picked up the foreboding pressure of reiatsu and scanned his surroundings without moving his head. In front of him, the chestnut-haired girl jumped and laughed to herself as she swung her arms out, completely oblivious to the dark presence looming over them.

"Gotcha!"

Orihime gasped loudly and immediately stopped her motions when she heard a muffled 'oomf' behind her. Swiveling her head around, she saw Ulquiorra staring at the ground beside him, his hands in his pockets with his usual melancholic expression. Switching her gaze to where Ulquiorra's was fixated on, she saw Grimmjow lying in a heap, snow partially covering his blue hair and a large, red mark on his lower jaw.

"Bastard," Grimmjow growled and leapt at Ulquiorra again, a fist posed high above his head for another attempt to strike him. Ulquiorra nonchalantly dodged him with a tilt of his head. Again, the azure-haired man spun around and swung another powerful fist at Ulquiorra's unprotected back, but was again dodged when Ulquiorra simply stepped back.

Is Grimmjow trying to kill him? Why is he trying to hurt Ulquiorra? And why isn't Ulquiorra doing anything about him?

"S-stop! What are you doing Grimmjow-san?!" Orihime called after him, but her meek voice was drowned out by Grimmjow's constant cursing and masculine grunts as he threw another round of punches at Ulquiorra.

"Stop!" They still were not listening, so Orihime gathered up some snow, compressed it with her pink-tipped fingers, and threw it with all her might at the fighting duo. It landed with a rather loud 'thunk' when it hit someone square on the forehead.

Grimmjow and Ulquiorra immediately halted their movements and turned their heads to stare at Orihime. The white snow was a striking contrast with Ulquiorra's raven-black hair as it slid down his matted tresses.

"Um… please don't fight…" Orihime began to fidget nervously. Ulquiorra was _not_ amused. She couldn't exactly say she was aiming for Grimmjow, but she didn't gives her motives enough thought before she actually threw the snowball.

"Well! Our princess has some spunk after all! Way to get Ulquiorra!" he bellowed boisterously. Orihime blushed timidly, feeling Ulquiorra's stare harden on her as Grimmjow's guffaw increased in volume.

"Tch…" the awkwardness was approaching the trio like a runaway train and was making Grimmjow uncomfortable. He switched his gaze from Orihime to Ulquiorra and back again to the young girl when the silence persisted.

Grimmjow wanted more than anything to bash Ulquiorra's face in just for laughs, but it seemed there was something else more interesting going on.

"Did I interrupt your little date, Ulquiorra?" he teased.

Ulquiorra shot him a look, his eyes dark with warning, but Grimmjow only laughed at him.

"W-we… we aren't on a date," Orihime stammered out, her blush darkening on her cheeks, "He's just giving me a tour!" she confirmed with a bit more zest. Before she could stop herself, she continued, "And really this place is absolutely gorgeous. Are you the one that tends to this garden? The flowers look really healthy and bright even in this weather! Almost like candy in a winter wonderland… like in the Nutcracker! Oh, I wish I could see that waltz… I used to watch it on the television every winter with my best friend Tatsuki."

"Err… yeah," Grimmjow mumbled, shuffling his feet in modesty. He didn't feel very comfortable when people talked about his hobbies.

Just when Orihime was about to respond, she heard a quiet mewl from a snow-draped bush beside her. From the rustling leaves jumped out a cat, its gray fur glistening with melted snow.

"Di Roy!" Grimmjow kneeled on the snow and beckoned for the cat to come to him. Warily, it eyed Orihime then Ulquiorra and then slowly approached its master, hopping into his open arms, "Well, I gotta go feed this cat. Thing must be freezing. Have fun walking your dog, Ulquiorra!" and with another bellow of mocking laughter, he disappeared around the corner.

An awkward silence plagued the two once again, Ulquiorra's gaze on her unmoving. Orihime absently began to fiddle with her sodden, auburn strands upon suddenly feeling self-conscious.

'_He's always staring at me_,' she fussed wordlessly, '_and he's _so_ quiet. I don't know what to say…Is there something on my face? That'd be so embarrassing._'

"Grimmjow-san is kind of mean to you isn't he? You guys must be really close," she decided to initiate a conversation, but the last part was accompanied with a light laugh.

"He's a nuisance."

Another moment of silence. It was getting tiring.

Orihime walked towards Ulquiorra and stood about two feet from him, his eyes never straying from hers. She was about to speak to him when she began to feel the familiar tingling sensation prickling at her nose and tearing up her eyes. She sneezed quietly into her sleeve and sniffled, her nose red with irritation.

Ulquiorra frowned. Szayel had insisted that he let the girl out every once in a while presuming that further exposure to her surroundings will help with her development, but if she were to get ill now, it would only hinder her progress. He had been observing her the entire time. Eager eyes always searching for something; her steps were careful, but she continued to pursue whatever she was interested in. Ulquiorra was sure that if Orihime were to put her mind on something, she would succeed.

Holding her hostage was already a trump card against the Shinigami, but if she were to foster her innate powers with his aid, Orihime could also be his ace. Though it had vexed him that even though he could read her like an open book, he still failed to understand her. To know anything about her.

But did he want to? No. He doesn't need to.

Wordlessly, Ulquiorra unwrapped the green scarf from around his neck and arranged it around Orihime's. She looked up, eyes wide with wonder and filled with unsaid questions as her fingers gripped the warm fabric's tail. She was engrossed in its smell – dark and musky. Just like him.

Orihime gave him a gentle sign of appreciation and snuggled her cheeks against his scarf.

'_So warm…_' So different from his icy demeanor.

Her blush flourished into the same red-darkness of her hair when she realized Ulquiorra had been staring at her very intently, "So where shall we go now?"

"I have a particular place in mind."

…

"Amazing! Ulquiorra, I never figured you would be the type to read a lot! Well… if I think about it. Maybe you are. Ah… some of these are recent. Oh I loved this one!"

Orihime's finger hovered over the old, cracked spine of a novel titled _A Tree Grows in Brooklyn_.

"It's kind of sad and lonely, yet heartwarming. It's one of those books you know? About… life," she spun around to face him, book in hand as she flipped through the pages. She inhaled, relishing in the smell of ancient pages and odorous dust.

When Orihime had trespassed into Ulquiorra's room, she had never noticed there was another door in the room. Then again, it was hidden beneath the shambles of curtains and broken furniture. After kicking away the rubble and prying the door open, she was welcomed by the bright light of his library. The dome-like ceiling was made of thick glass and heavily laden with snow so it obscured the room from direct sunlight, yet permitted enough through to give the room some authentic, white light.

The library was enormous. Almost the size of the lobby except it had two floors with a sliding ladder to connect both levels. She was immediately enraptured by the size and bountiful amount of books that lined every inch of the walls from floor to ceiling.

Currently, Orihime was browsing through the collection while Ulquiorra sat in a nearby armchair, his own book propped up in his hand.

"Human life. The book was written to teach humanity of how small and insignificant one's life is in the world and yet everyone's purpose is to move on."

"Hmm… I never thought of it like that. I just liked reading from the girl's perspective. It was like I was living through her life. It was harsh and unforgiving in the beginning, but she kept moving and she pulled through. There wasn't really any romance though, so it was kind of boring," she giggled softly as she pushed the book back into its empty slot.

Ulquiorra was immediately reminded of Orihime as she spoke.

"How did you collect all of these books anyway? Some of these are new! Like this one… _Shiver_. I've always wanted to read this one, but I was so caught up in schoolwork, I never had the time to read. What kind of books do you like to read?"

Ulquiorra remained unresponsive, trying to drown out her noisy chatter as he read. Orihime huffed aloud and sauntered over to his chair, peeking over his shoulder to see what he was reading. He immediately shut the book and placed it on a table in front of him, front cover down of course. Orihime felt a little peeved. Adjusting the scarf that still draped over her shoulders, she decided to pester him into talking.

"Oh I know! You seem like a non-fiction reader. I bet you like history books. Or science! I think the human anatomy is pretty fascina—"

"Onna."

"Y-yes?" Orihime blinked twice at the top of his head.

"Your scent is nauseating."

Orihime didn't notice she had been leaning into him, her chin was practically on his shoulder, her cheek only a few centimeters away from his. She immediately jumped back and grew flustered, "O-oh sorry! Do I smell bad? I took a shower though! Maybe my perfume is old or…"

Ulquiorra suddenly stood up, causing Orihime's voice to diminish in volume as she talked. He turned around to face her, taking his right hand out of his pocket and twirling a lock of auburn hair around his gloved finger. Orihime stood still, slightly alarmed by his approach.

"Not this fake, feminine smell…," he closed the distance between their faces and softly touched the curve of her lower jaw with his dark lips, "This maddening human aroma. I can smell the stench of your pure blood, hear it pumping through your arteries… and even now…," he untangled his hand from her hair and lowered it to her chest, his fingers brushing below her collarbone. He tugged at the green scarf and threw it to the side, his lips hovering downwards to her exposed neck.

Orihime stiffened, suddenly feeling wary of being in a room alone with Ulquiorra. If he were to do something to her now, no one would be here to save her this time.

"Your heart is beating faster," he murmured. She shuddered with every graze of his lips against her neck and gasped when she felt him suckle gently on her skin.

"U-Ulquiorra…" she stuttered breathlessly. Before she could even feel it coming, a sharp gasp escaped from her lips when he sucked harder on her neck, nibbling and licking at the same tender, red spot, "What are you… w-wait, Ulquiorra— ah!"

She had meant to push herself away from Ulquiorra, but his arms had snaked around her waist, entrapping her within his strong hold. Her weak resistance caused them to tumble over, landing on a nearby loveseat with Ulquiorra beneath her, "Ulquiorra!"

Despite her movements and the new position, his mouth was unmoving and his hands fisting the back of her jacket. Always touching her; his lips searing hot and his hands gripping the thick fabric of her jacket so tightly, she was sure he would tear it, "S-stop. This is so sudden— ah!"

She couldn't hold herself back. She sighed a moan so soft, her voice of desire sent racks of craving down his spine.

Ulquiorra couldn't stop himself no matter how much he willed himself to. The smell of her blood was too intoxicating. Once again, he was under her spell, enchanted by the soft, wavy tresses of red and gold and the fluttering sounds of her beating heart against his empty chest. He wanted more. He wanted to kill her, make her his, anything to make the insistent longing to possess her stop. Orihime's thighs were pressing into his groin, the wonderful pressure had him arching his back into her. He sighed lustfully into the base of her neck, his fingers twitching to grope the large set of breasts squished between their bodies.

He squeezed her body further into his and she arched her back, allowing Ulquiorra's tongue to slither down the length of her neck and tease at the dip above her collarbone.

Orihime was just as guilty. She had never prepared herself for moments like this and though Ulquiorra had touched her the same way before, she failed to recall the way his touch made her legs weak and her breath shudder in ecstasy. It was only his lips, those smoldering hot lips on her cool skin, but when he would kiss the marks he left in his wake, she found herself gasping for more. Her hands had intertwined with his black hair, her legs flanked by his on each side, and her thigh pressing against something warm and hard, pulsating along in synchronization of her heart.

It was when he grazed her tender flesh with his fangs that she flailed in his arms, gripping his hair with zest as she mewled sweetly.

Wait. _Fangs?_

The heat of the moment was approaching the danger level. And fast. Orihime had to do something to stop him before he would hurt her. His mouth on her skin felt amazing though. His lips were rough and his sucking and licking unforgiving, but as if to cool her scorching, new marks, he would kiss them tenderly. Cold and sharp teeth scratched and pressed into her. It was painful, yet it aroused her even more. All of the contrasting sensations were tearing her apart.

Ulquiorra's embrace tightened around her waist as he let out a low moan. He accidentally drew a miniscule amount of blood when he bit her a little too hard. Orihime's breathing began to grow labored, her mouth pressed harshly against his hair to help suppress the wanton sounds.

"Ulquiorra…" she whispered.

He leaned back, pressing his head against the sofa and gazed at her with half-lidded eyes, his mouth slightly parted as shallow breaths left his dark lips. She looked back at him, all sense of speaking having left her consciousness.

"Oh. Don't mind me. I'm just here to gather some research."

Orihime yelped aloud in surprise, practically flew off Ulquiorra's lap, and fell on the floor ungraciously. He sat up and scrutinized the pink-haired man jeering at him from a distance.

Ulquiorra sighed in irritation, feeling the urge to shed blood rekindling from his inner demon, "What are you doing here, Szayel?" he said venomously, running a hand down his face. Orihime sat on the floor beside him, staring at the floor with great humiliation, her face nearly as red as the trail of marks he had left with great pride on her neck.

"I already _told_ you, Ulquiorra," Szayel mocked even further with his sing-song voice, "Are you really that dazed from your little love-biting session to not have comprehended me? Anyways, I got what I came here for so carry on," he cackled as he left through a different exit in the room.

Ulquiorra silently cursed the man. He seemed to be there at the worst times just to hammer on his poor decisions. But he knew Szayel's intentions were different this time. He had come here to stop him before he let himself go too far.

He switched his emerald gaze to the bemused girl sitting beside him on the floor.

"I'll take you back to your room now."

…

"Thank you for today," Orihime said politely while she bowed to him. Her face was continually flushed ever since their ordeal in the library and was still apparent. The walk back to her room was unbearably awkward, but they had nothing to say to each other. Both boy and girl were ashamed of themselves for tasting what seemed to feel like lust.

Ulquiorra nodded to her once and turned around to leave when Orihime had called him to her attention again, "Um… I still have your scarf."

"Keep it. You will need it."

And the door closed, followed by the click of the lock.

* * *

**See where I'm going with this?**  
**Excited for the Mature parts now? hehe**  
**Review please! Just a few words or even a hello is greatly appreciated~ And I answer all questions!**


	10. Ablaze

**This chapter is unbeta'd so excuse any grammar/spelling mistakes please! There shouldn't be too many...  
**

**The following part is symbolic. Hence the reason for Ulquiorra's… (temporary) OOCness.**

* * *

_Nothingness._

_Void._

_Dark_.

"Hold her down," a gruff voice commanded from nowhere.

In the distance, a pale, lean figure materialized. Monstrous, ebony wings erupted from his back and rested behind barely clad form. Golden pupils rolled into view, surrounded by a dark pool of viridian corneas. Opaque tears streaked down from his eyes and long, bony horns protruded from his raven-black hair.

"Must I fucking repeat myself, Ulquiorra?" Murcielago ground out, "Hold her down."

"…What?" Ulquiorra managed to whisper. It was like unseen fingers were gripping at his vocal chords, rendering him unable to speak or turn his head at will. He cast his eyes downwards to the limp hand at his side, twitching his fingers to test if he could at least control his body to that extent. His movements were slow, like swimming in viscous syrup, and his mind was heavy.

He turned his head to the side to the best of his ability and then, not far from him, another human-shaped structure began to come into existence.

"He won't hurt me," a new voice joined in. It was feminine and soft. He struggled to look for the source, but Ulquiorra's mind was processing much too slow for his tastes.

Fully visible now and standing next to Murcielago, Orihime stared at him with tear-filled eyes. Her clothes were torn and she sported bleeding wounds that she paid no attention to. Pity racked through him like a surging tide as she let out a whimper. A faint call for help.

"You are right. He is too _weak _now," with razor-like claws, he swiped at her back causing her to fall forward and collapse on the ground. She screamed in agony, the song of her pain drowning him in despair.

"I'm not… afraid," Orihime whispered through clenched teeth. Her body shuddered violently as an unhealthy amount of blood oozed from the fresh wound on her back.

The auburn-haired girl's eyes never strayed from his. Tenderly, she lifted a shaking hand up and stretched her arm out, reaching for him.

Before he could process what was going on, his body had leapt forward and grabbed her hand, bending a knee to help her up as he supported her weight with his shoulder.

"Trash!" Murcielago hissed poisonously, but the beast did not move from his spot.

Orihime tilted her head to look up, her lips parted marginally to gasp out heady breaths. Her breasts heaved in and out as with every breath she took, the soft flesh tickling and brushing against his hard chest and sending shocks of unknown sensations throughout his body. With her so close to him, he began to feel heat pooling at his lower abdomen.

"Kiss me," she said.

"What?"

"You want me. I can see it in your eyes," she lowered her head slightly, her eyes level to his broad chest. She raised a hand again and slid it upwards from the hem of his shirt to the spot she was now staring at. Her fingers danced lightly in rhythm with his heartbeat, further instigating the heat in his groin to burn with immeasurable intensity.

"You're speaking nonsense, onna."

Again, she lifted her head up, her eyes alight and bordered with glistening tears. She began to lean in slowly and tilt her chin ever so slightly; her eyelids growing heavier the closer her mouth drew to his.

Upon realizing what she was about to do, Ulquiorra's first instinct was to push her away. To turn his head and avoid the sweet union of his lips against hers. But, again, his body paid no attention to his silent signals and instead did the very opposite of what he wished.

He met her halfway, his dark lips brushing against her top lip and parting marginally to exhale. Ulquiorra's hands snaked up from her waist and up past the deep wounds on her back, staining his hands red and leaving a bloody trail to her chestnut hair. Pale digits tangled with brunette strands and she arched into him in return.

Finally closing the distance, she pressed her lips against his, emitting a soft, dissatisfied groan. Somehow, he knew what she wanted. Perhaps he understood through the motion of her hands slipping around his neck, or the way she hooked her right leg around his waist, or the grinding of her hips against his painfully, sweltering groin. Ulquiorra parted his lips and accepted her silent request to slip her slick tongue into his mouth. He growled softly into her mouth, his tongue caressing possessively with hers.

She rubbed her hips against his slowly, causing his breath to hitch in his throat. He broke the kiss only to begin nibbling delicately at her bottom lip. She moaned, her eyes fluttering and her fragile hands exploring his broad shoulders and back. Ulquiorra tilted his head up again, his tongue slipping back into her warm, smooth mouth.

Orihime ended their shared kiss, leaning back as she pressed her fingers upon the flesh that enclosed his rapidly beating heart. With swollen, glossy lips and a heavenly voice she spoke:

"Your heart… is mine."

"_NO!"_

With inhumane velocity, Murcielago shot forward, immense wings flapping once to propel him forward. His long, whip-like tail zipped ahead of him and snaked around Orihime's thin wrists. With an audible snap, Murcielago's tail tightened its grip and jerked her backwards, sending her flying into his arms. She shrieked in pain, her silver eyes wide with fear and her mouth agape as she shrilled a scream at a pitch that was sure to damage his hearing.

"Release her!" Ulquiorra found himself shouting even though he had no intention of doing so.

"Let me remind you what happens when you let your guard down, _Ulquiorra_," he hissed.

His tail continued to wind around her body: between her inner thighs and through her bust and then around her neck, all the while encompassing her ankles and wrists. She was positioned in midair, her limbs spread outwards, but her head hung low. Pulling back, Orihime arched her spine causing her breasts to bounce from her sudden movement. Her binding constricted once more and she lifted her head up immediately to scream in pain, begging for the winged monster to stop.

Murcielago grinned, his eyes sparkling with delight as he listened to her sounds of suffering. He relaxed his grip just slightly and Orihime immediately lost consciousness.

And in return, Ulquiorra gained his.

Ulquiorra lurched forward in the chair he had fallen asleep in. Reality had hit him so hard, it was reeling his mind in circles, causing him to gasp quite loudly for air and stability.

"…What…" he breathed out.

Suddenly, he evicted whatever was in his stomach right onto the floor of his study room. He had not eaten anything recently so instead of garbled remnants of food, he began to dryly heave copious amounts of saliva and acid.

His mind was reeling.

Orihime's sultry tone lingered in his imagination, the tingling sensation in his trousers still flaming and rampant.

…

Ulquiorra was right.

"I definitely need this scarf," she whined aloud to her mirror image.

Orihime grew beet red as she paced her fingertips on the constellation of red marks on her neck. Some were even turning a dark purple and others were tender and raw, the skin having disturbed by his sharp fangs. _Geez, couldn't he at least be gentle?_

The rest of that day was a mess. At least in Orihime's head. She had spent the remainder of the afternoon and night mulling over Ulquiorra's actions. Occasionally, she would find herself imagining the feeling his scalding lips skimming over her cheeks… sliding all the way down to her abdomen while his fingers danced teasingly on her inner thigh…

She smacked herself in the head, knocking herself forcefully out of her wanton ideas. _Geez, what in the world am I doing?!_

She also had trouble sleeping last night, hence the reason why she was out of bed early for once.

"I'm coming in."

Before the young girl could respond, Ulquiorra already made his way in with a tray of food. He quietly placed it down on her nightstand before turning to face her. She quickly observed that he was wearing a dull, green button-down with a fancy gray vest and black slacks. Though the mask seemed out of place, it added a touch of class and mysteriousness.

"You're not wearing the scarf," he said pointedly. His green eyes were fixated on a certain point on her exposed neck. Face flushed, she slapped her hand on her neck, trying to cover the bites to the best of her ability. She tried to read his expression again, looking for something similar to pride or regret, but she was expecting too much already.

"Eat," he demanded, ignoring her antics of embarrassment. Orihime nodded once, wrapping the scarf around her neck despite already feeling like she was burning up, and walked over to the tray to uncover it.

"Oh wow! Donuts!" she sat down on the edge of her bed and began to devour the soft dough with gusto, licking her fingers as she ate them one by one.

"Mmph… shooo good!" she moaned and then swallowed with a loud gulp. She turned to face Ulquiorra, her eyes glistening with grateful tears, "Are these from Chunkin' Donuts? I recognize their famous sugar glaze from anywhere!"

She waited for an answer, but was only met with his indifferent stare. Orihime shrugged and then went back to finishing her breakfast. The young girl had already grown accustomed to his frequent, blank stares and melancholic attitude.

"Why do you act happy?"

She paused in her indulging, slightly startled by his initiation at a conversation. Again, she turned to him, a questioning look on her face, "I'm sorry?"

"For days, you were drowning in your own tears of self-pity and now you stand before me, smiling and laughing."

"I'm always like this," she blinked twice at him, "You got me these donuts like you know me so well! How could I not be happy?" she added with a giggle.

"You cannot fool me, Orihime," he said slowly. To him, the human girl was more than an open book.

Orihime swiftly glanced at him, her eyes bright with his sudden use of her name, and then averted her attention back to tearing a donut into smaller pieces. Her ecstatic performance slowly diminished and her shoulders slumped over, "I know. I just…"

"Answer this, onna. Just why do you bother keeping this false façade up? To avoid being pitied? To avoid being a bother to your friends?"

She didn't answer at first, her eyes downcast, but she felt his hardened gaze penetrated her all the same. Finally, when she decided to speak, her words slightly surprised him.

"It's not that I'm pretending. I just feel like it's a lot easier to smile and adjust than give you the cold shoulder… Besides, I feel like… maybe we can be friends, Ulquiorra."

His eyes widened, taking a few silent moments to slowly digest her answer. _To adjust_… _What a strong girl indeed._

"Let me tell you this, Inoue Orihime. I am not your _friend_," he hissed, "Nor do I ever intend to be. Just be yourself. It is easier that way."

'_Just be yourself'_

…_Wait what?_ Was Ulquiorra trying to give her advice?

Orihime looked up, a delicate blush blooming on her cheeks causing Ulquiorra to be taken aback. It was that same expression that she had given him in his dream. Right before she… no before _he_ kissed her. He immediately began to feel that familiar twinge in his groin and he took a step back in his discomfort.

"Why do you keep doing that?" he found himself asking.

"Doing what?" she furrowed her brows in confusion. Ulquiorra was acting quite strangely.

"Your face keeps turning red. It's really annoying."

"H-huh?" his spoken remark only made her face burn even hotter.

Ulquiorra sighed, running a gloved hand through his ink-black hair. He turned and began to walk away, "I'll return in thirty minutes. Be prepared to go outside today."

She watched the door shut close behind him and lock in place with mild confusion, slowly lifting her cold fingertips to her red-tinted cheeks.

_Why is he making me feel this way?_

…

"Well, he wasn't kidding when he said he was going to _devour_ her," Szayel snickered loudly into his hand. Using his free hand, he began to tap at some buttons and the scene playing before them reversed back to the beginning.

"Holy shit, Szayel! I feel like I'm watchin' porn. Shut that thing off!" Grimmjow sneered, but contrary to his words, his neck was craned towards the screen, his eyes squinting for focus.

"Don't tell me you put cameras in every room…" Nel began to gripe, her voice wary. The teal-haired girl crossed her leg over the other, her fingers tapping impatiently on the armchair. She was feeling horrifically grumpy that morning, having been rudely awoken from her sleep by Szayel, "Is this the so-called 'important topic' you wanted to discuss with us?"

"Don't be such a wiener, Nelliel!" Nnoitra fussed, "Oh, man, I can_not_ wait to blackmail Ulquiorra with this!"

"Blackmail me with what?"

All four pairs of eyes shifted to the doorway of Szayel's room and then widened in shock.

"Come sit with us, Ulquiorra!" Nnoitra got up and began to push Ulquiorra towards a nearby, empty seat and forced him to sit down, "Come watch this with us!"

Despite his monotonous grunts of protesting, he found himself staring at the screen in front of him when he heard a feminine, but loud moan escape from the television speakers.

"What are…you…" his words slowly trailed off as realization hit him square in the gut. On the screen played a rather... sensual scene between Orihime and Ulquiorra; the same scenes that he had been replaying in his head since the moment it was interrupted in the library.

Grimmjow, Szayel, and Nnoitra burst out laughing, clearly enjoying the expression of revulsion on the pale, boy's face. Nel merely smirked, also noting that Ulquiorra was sporting a faint, but noticeable blush.

"Oh man, Ulquiorra," Grimmjow gasped out as he wiped a tear from his eye. He exhausted all the oxygen he had in his lungs to laugh at Ulquiorra's reaction, "You should make more of these. They're hot!"

"Yeah, with those sounds that girl is making, it seems like she's ready for more!" Nnoitra sneered with his nasal voice. Nel rolled his eyes at him and pouted, feeling incredibly neglected.

Ulquiorra wordlessly stood up from his seat and started to walk towards the DVD player. He should have known better than to think his hotel was free of Szayel's hidden cameras.

"Oh ho ho, no you don't!" Szayel took a step forward and grabbed Ulquiorra by the wrist, yanking him away from the entertainment set, "You are _not_ taking my valuable data!"

"Release me!" Ulquiorra hissed, his eyes never straying from the screen even though his vision was flooded with the color red.

Fury wracked through his body like never before.

Raising his free arm, stretched his fingers outwards towards the television and began to charge up an emerald cero.

"What the fuck!"

Grimmjow launched himself from the couch and tackled Ulquiorra, sending both of them colliding on the carpet.

"Are you crazy, shithead?! You're gonna blow this place up!" To emphasize his point, Grimmjow decided to knock some sense into him. Literally. He planted a jaw-shattering blow on Ulquiorra's face, causing him to grunt out in pain.

Wrong decision.

Ulquiorra swiftly kicked Grimmjow off of him and kicked him roughly on the side while he was down, sending him crashing through the wall and out into the snow-laden outdoors. Ulquiorra sonido'd after him to continue paying him back for the dull pain pulsating at his jawbone. His rage was now in complete control of his mind as he sent cero after cero at Grimmjow's resilient body.

"They're going to tear this place up! We have to stop them!" Nel watched in horror from indoors. The snow was billowing in like a blizzard from the frenzied battle taking place outside. The wall was in complete ruins. Nnoitra, with his fighting-spirit, dove after them, joining in on the fight just for fun.

'_How are these idiots going to fix this _now?' Nel inwardly sighed.

…

Orihime nearly jumped out of her bed when the door slammed open, revealing a blabbering Nel at the doorway, "Orihime! You need to stop them!"

"What? What's going on?" Orihime quickly walked over to Nel, "Calm down, Nel-san! What's going on?"

"They're fighting outside. Only you can stop them. Non-violently of course."

Orihime had no clue as to why Nel was thinking that, but she was deeply concerned considering it was enough to panic Nel.

"Oh my God, is it serious?"

Without another word, the auburn-haired girl grabbed her jacket and pushed Nel out of her room. Having calmed down, Nel began to escort her outside with a somewhat hurried pace.

"It's nothing really, but it would really trouble me if someone got hurt. They're just being boys."

"Ah… sounds fun."

They continued to walk quickly, but Orihime decided to break the short silence.

"So… I saw you and Nnoitra… you know—"

"WHAT?! No! We weren't doing anything like that! I swear!" she interrupted, her arms flailing around and her face contorted in mortification.

"N-no! That's not what I was going to say! Calm down Nel-san!" Orihime managed to calm her down, but the teal-haired girl's face was still flushed. With that reaction, maybe there was something going on beyond what she had seen?

"I was going to say I saw you singing to him."

"Ah," was all she said, her brown eyes still avoiding hers.

"Are you getting any closer to him?"

"I've been with him for decades! Of course I'm close to him, silly Orihime-chan," she sang cheerfully, but the pain in her eyes didn't escape from young girl's vision.

"I mean as lovers."

"L-lovers!?" Nel stared at her incredulously, "Orihime-chan, we're _Hollows_. Hollows cannot love. We are empty, blasphemous beings," she began to quicken her pace, Orihime almost running to catch up with her.

"Don't you think it's kind of odd, though?" Orihime couldn't help, but press on the subject even though she knew she was making Nel uncomfortable, "You said you always feel like you have an obligation to be with him and that it makes you feel better when you are. Isn't that love?"

Nel was quiet for so long, Orihime was about to give up on listening for an answer until she finally spoke, "That's exactly it. It _really _feels like an obligation," her tone was soft and serious, "Like I was born to protect him. Well, reborn."

A light bulb was lit upstairs, "Maybe it has something to do with your past life? Before you became a Hollow."

Nel shrugged. They finally reached the door leading to outside and she pushed it open for Orihime, "I thought about that, but there's not much I can do with that much information anyway. I can't remember anything of that life nor can Nnoitra or anyone here for that matter."

_Maybe something could trigger her memories back?_

Orihime's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of destructions and the fall of rubble, accompanied with an occasion haughty laugh or grunt. She turned her head away from Nel, towards the sound of explosions, and gasped aloud in horror.

Ulquiorra had both Nnoitra and Grimmjow pinned on the white, frosted earth. Grimmjow released a disgruntled scoff as Ulquiorra dug his head harder into the snow with one hand and kept Nnoitra's unmoving body restrained under the sole of his shoe.

His black coat sleeves were tattered and hanging on my only a few threads and his eyes. Orihime couldn't help, but notice that his snow-white mask had a noticeable chip on the side.

It was a lot more serious than Nel articulated it to be.

"Ulquiorra…?"

The mentioned Hollow's viridian gaze slid from Grimmjow to Orihime without moving his head and his dark lips tilted lower into a deep frown.

"Tch! Well if it ain't your girlfriend comin' to save ya, Ulquiorra!" Grimmjow laughed weakly. Ulquiorra gripped his azure hair and picked his head up a few inches off the ground only to smash it back down. Orihime covered her mouth to suppress a surprised squeal.

"What are you doing here?" Ulquiorra glowered at her.

"She came here to stop you," Nel answered for her. She took a step forward, but her stance was still defensive. Ulquiorra was furious. And when that boy was mad, he could just about decimate the entire city if he wanted to.

"Heh, you hear that Grimmjow?" Nnoitra nudged his head out from underneath Ulquiorra's foot and stoof up, spitting blood with a laugh.

"You're such a fucking loser," Grimmjow gritted, his deep voice muffled in the snow.

"The girl doesn't concern me," Ulquiorra deadpanned. He released his grip on Grimmjow and straightened up, his body fully turned to face Orihime.

"Oh really? Then prove it!" Nnoitra jeered, "Don't give us that 'we must keep her mentally and physically stable' shit! You could always just beat 'er up 'til she begs ya to fuck 'er!"

Grimmjow was standing next to Nnoitra now, both of their mocking expressions littered with cuts and bruises, "Hell, I'm pretty sure you don't have to beat 'er up to have her begging for ya!" Grimmjow added.

"Disgusting," Ulquiorra shot a glare at him. Orihime was blushing at the highest level at this moment.

"It's obvious he won't do it," Szayel said from a distance. He was watching the show from afar, sitting on the demolished remnants of the wall with his elbow on his knee.

"Then how about we do it _for _him?"

Before Orihime could turn around to see where the new voice was coming from, two pairs of hands had grabbed her from behind. One slender hand covered her mouth just in time to hold in her startled yelp and the others held her arms down with such animosity it rendered her unable to turn or stand up properly.

"Loly," Ulquiorra was seething now.

Loly Aivirrne shrilled a menacing laugh, her grip clenching painfully on Orihime's mouth. Silver-eyes grew wide in desperation as she struggled to release herself from Menoly and Loly's hold.

"Man, you're like a worm. So _pathetic_," Loly murmured into Orihime's ear. The violet-eyed girl's high-pitched voice echoed into her ears, sending violent shivers down her back. Her grin curled upwards even more, feeding off of Orihime's fear.

Menoly frowned at her sister. It wasn't that she pitied the human girl, but she didn't exactly feel pleasure from harming someone else for no good reason.

Loly fixated her piercing gaze on Ulquiorra, "Would you save her before I tear off her pretty little arm?" the nails on Orihime's wrist dug painfully into her delicate skin and drew blood. Orihime squirmed when she began to feel the heat of pain, but her efforts were wasted.

"Don—" was all Orihime heard from Ulquiorra before the sound of bone-crunching reached her ears.

Red filled her vision and stained the snow.

Splotches of blood trailed from Ulquiorra to Nnoitra; a pale, gnarled arm, complete with jacket sleeve, bones, and tendons, lay at a distance from Ulquiorra. Blood poured from the socket that once harbored his arm and dribbled to the ground stickily. With a pained grunt, Ulquiorra wavered on his feet, but managed to keep his stance.

"_Nnoitra_," Ulquiorra growled.

Due to Menoly and Loly's stunned state, Orihime managed to wiggle out of their hold and fall to her knees. Her knees reached the lowest layer of the snow, the ice instantly numbing her jean-clad legs. She covered her mouth with her hands, her eyes wide with distress and distaste. Orihime began to gag reflexively, feeling nauseous upon seeing the pale boy's arm resting lifelessly at the side and blood saturating Ulquiorra's clothes, trickling softly from the arteries and veins that stuck out from what was left of his upperarm.

"U-Ulquiorra…!" Orihime weakly whimpered to him.

Ulquiorra angrily stared at her, but didn't say a word. To her confusion, not a sign of agony could be traced on his face.

Closing his eyes and furrowing his brow in concentration, Ulquiorra condensed his reiatsu on his wound. Within seconds, new flesh reappeared and took shape of his previous arm. Ulquiorra opened his eyes and brought the newly formed arm to his sight, flexing his fingers as if to test it.

"Ha, oh man I can never get tired of that," Grimmjow grinned like a fool next to Nnoitra.

"That shit's kind of over-powered," Nnoitra chipped in. His single, violet eye gleamed with twisted delight, "I was kinda hoping he'd at least yell out in pain."

Szayel nodded in agreement, completely absorbed by how Ulquiorra had regenerated his arm so quickly.

Before Grimmjow or Nnoitra had a chance to tear him apart, Ulquiorra sonido'd away without a trace.

"Tch. Bastard ran away," Grimmjow grumbled. Nnoitra was yelling unintelligibly into the thin air Ulquiorra was breathing just moments ago. Something about paying him back for being more sexually active than him.

Grimmjow turned to the perplexed girl sitting on the ground, but then switched his cerulean gaze to Loly and Menoly, "What are you bitches still doing here? Scram! Go back to fucking the employees or something."

The twins' eyes grew wide at his demand and they took a step back. Loly was struggling to refrain herself from fighting against Grimmjow's insults and resulted to biting her tongue instead. She knew the brute wouldn't hesitate to rip her apart if she ever dared to defy him.

"L-lets go, Menoly," her sister nodded enthusiastically at her and they retreated back into the hotel.

Orihime continued to stare speechlessly at Grimmjow and Nnoitra, still completely stunned from what had happened. Nnoitra ran his bloody hand through his hair and grinned maniacally at her.

"You've gotten yourself into some weird shit, human girl." And Grimmjow, Szayel, and Nnoitra sonido'd off stage.

_No kidding._

Nel placed a hand on her shoulder and she instantly regained her composure through her simple act of encouragement, "Sorry for putting you through this, Orihime-chan."

Orihime stood up and smiled softly at her, but she was still clearly confused, "Don't worry about me. I will be okay… But how are you guys going to fix this? Won't this concern any guests or potential customers?" she motioned to the dilapidated building.

"The Hougyoku is a magical gem, Orihime-chan," she whispered as if telling her a secret, "I don't really know how it works, but I do know that it is the reason why those boys can get away with a few fights every now and then."

"The Hyougoku…," Orihime repeated. That jewel does more than shield them. She felt a twinge of gratefulness towards it.

Nel returned her smile sadly, "Well, it should be about lunch time now. How about we have some girl time? Oh! And then we can take a walk around the hotel? Have you seen our indoor pool? Oooh, I bet you'll love our kitchen! It's enormous! But Nnoitra doesn't like me going in there if he isn't around…"

Orihime giggled at the teal-haired girl's attempt at lifting her spirits. She decided to go with the flow, hoping to cleanse her mind of the gory events that just took place, "I'd love to, Nel-san."

She could still feel Loly's shrill voice resonating through her mind. It still struck her that Loly and Menoly had found some interest to harming her. Why did they hate her so much? Because she's human?

Orihime decided to avoid those two at all costs in fear that she may end up in a dangerous situation.

…

"Are you sure you don't want to go see other parts of the hotel? Or play a game? Hide and seek? Tag?" Nel frowned at her. She crossed her arms over her busty chest as she spoke, "The library is so boring."

Orihime laughed softly as she glided her fingers against the multitude of book spines while she walked past them, "Sorry for boring you, Nel-san, but you know I can't just sit around if I want to help you guys. Besides, the topic seems interesting," she paused for a moment, squinting at a certain title that had caught her eye: _Hohlen Welt Gymnasium._

A German yearbook? What is this doing here?

She took the book from the shelf and lightly blew the dust off its cover. Everything within it was written with India ink which was greatly smudged due to water damage and age; its markings long indecipherable so she couldn't tell what year it was for.

Garnering a certain interest for the ancient book, she brought it with her to the seat across from Nel. Orihime peeked over at Nel who had fallen asleep, already snoring despite talking just a few minutes ago. She flipped the cover open and ran her fingertips across the wrinkled, yellow page.

Each student was dressed in proper school uniform, their expressions mellow in their monochrome black and white picture. Quickly skimming through each page, she noted that it was a high school yearbook, possibly dating around early 1900's. She was about to turn the page when something familiar was seen at the corner of her eye.

_Nnoitra Gilga._

Orihime's silver eyes widened and her heartbeat quickened. Above that infamous name was a picture of a young boy. Skinny, pale, and with inky-black hair that curled slightly at the ends. But harbored _two_, dark, and squinty eyes. So this was Nnoitra before he became a Hollow. His smile was as sinister as ever. He still looked like a delinquent. But Orihime wasn't one to judge. After all, she was/is in love with one.

Just to make sure, the auburn-haired girl checked to see if Nel was still sleeping. Yep. Orihime had warned her not to eat that heaping bowl of potato and bacon soup earlier, but Nel had reassured her that she felt too energized to go into a food coma.

She continued on, hoping to be able to find anything readable, but to no avail. The pictures were already blurred enough and she had only gotten lucky to see Nnoitra's clearly. Some pages were dog-eared at the corners or wrinkled. And were those tear stains? How strange…

On another page rested the name _Nelliel tu Odelschwanck._

Nel was still her gorgeous self. Flowing, wavy hair and large, bright eyes set with a goofy, but natural smile. So Nnoitra and Nel attended high school together. It honestly didn't surprise Orihime knowing how familiar they acted with one another. Unconsciously or not.

Reading on, she quickly learned that she was Class President. It seemed like an unlikely titled for the ochre-eyed girl sitting across from her with drool dribbling down her chin.

Orihime closed the yearbook and set it aside. She got up and gently nudged Nel awake, telling her that she wanted to go back to her room now.

"Nnoi…tra… love you… too," she murmured quietly in her sleep. Orihime smiled sadly at her, her heart aching painfully for her friend. If there was anyone Nel could relate to about unrequited love, it would be Orihime. Though, something about Nel told her that her love for Nnoitra wasn't nearly as superficial as her love for Ichigo. It wasn't innocent or pure.

It was really… _love._ Not just affection or infatuation.

Not wanting to wake the girl up from her pleasant dream, Orihime exited the library and headed to her room, ignoring Ulquiorra's rule of only letting her walk around with a chaperone.

…

When Orihime entered her room, her heart nearly leapt out of her chest at the sight.

Ulquiorra was silently lying face up on her bed, his forearm resting on his mask to shield out the lighting of her room and his legs hanging off the edge of the mattress. She walked in and closed the door quietly behind her.

Approaching him, she wondered for a moment if he were asleep. His chest rose and fell ever so gently, his breathing shallow as it passed through his dark lips. Suddenly, the events of that day came hammering back into her head and she was instantly filled with dread and remorse.

She sat down on the bed next to Ulquiorra, removed his scarf from around her bed, and placed it neatly on her nightstand. Leaning over him, she felt _de ja vu_ envelop her, seizing her heart in her grasp tightly and almost suffocating her.

That's right. She was in this exact position when she had last spoken to Ichigo.

Boldly, Orihime skimmed the back of her index finger against Ulquiorra's pale jawbone, trailing down his slender neck and around the collar of his coat.

Ulquiorra was handsome. She said this aloud and silently to herself countless times.

How wonderful could it be if those same lips that ravished her neck and jaw the night before touched hers? Would it send the same cold heat tingling down her spine and making her toes curl? If he bit down on her bottom lip with unfathomable delicacy, would it make her sigh his name just as she did last night?

She knew these thoughts were forbidden. Ulquiorra was a Hollow and not just that. He was her caretaker. Her warden, her jailer, her precious friend's _enemy._

But she wasn't careful enough.

Orihime found herself cupping his face in her left hand, savoring the feeling of his rough, cold skin against her warm fingers. And then she leaned ever so slightly, the bed creaking underneath their bodies from the shifting weight…

"What are you doing?"

Orihime blinked and leaned back, her eyes large and quivering with revelation. _Was she seriously about to kiss Ulquiorra in his sleep?_

Ulquiorra removed his arm from his eyes and sat up, his emerald gaze never leaving her.

"I was awake this entire time."

_Oh great. _Could he make Orihime's face any redder?

"I-I-I…" she stammered.

Ulquiorra sighed. He knew she was about to kiss him. He could hear her rapid heart beat in anticipation since the moment she entered the room. Curiosity had kept him still and this was the result.

Did the girl hold affectionate feelings towards him? Despite his hard demeanor towards her, forcing her into imprisonment, and relaying the message that he was using her?

The girl couldn't be that _imprudent_.

Deciding to have none of it, he got off the bed and was about to leave without another word, but then Orihime quickly grabbed him by the wrist right before he could shove his hands into his pockets. Ulquiorra's eyes widened marginally when she pulled him back only to wrap her arms around his waist from behind.

"I-I wanted to say… I'm so sorry."

Ulquiorra remained stationary, completely bemused by her impulsive behavior. Orihime rested her forehead on the broad curve of his back, tightening her hug and vaguely feeling the rough, toned muscles underneath the layers of clothing.

"For…?" he said slowly.

"Because I'm here, you're going through so much," she pressed her body closer to his, her curves filling the gaps between their bodies. His breath hitched inaudibly in his throat, the heat in his lower abdomen unexpectedly returning with surging hostility.

"What had happened today is no different to what I had experienced before your arrival," he assured her. In fact, he should be the one apologizing to her for letting Loly and Menoly get the best of him through her. But Ulquiorra wasn't one to do so. And yet, before he realized it, his feet had taken him to Orihime's room. Why?

Orihime nodded knowingly against his back and sighed. She felt like Ulquiorra was getting bullied, but she wouldn't dare to admit that out loud. He could easily overcome them anyway.

Her hands drifted to the upper part of his chest and her fingers curled into a fist right above his heart. She was beginning to fancy the feeling him his hard, but warm body pressing against hers. Ulquiorra, on the other hand, was feeling uncomfortable being so close to her. It was that insistent desire welling up from his grown and flooding into his brain that told him that their position was becoming a peril.

He didn't belong in her arms.

Too soon, Ulquiorra wrenched himself from her hold and she sulked shyly from the lack of warmth. Without so much as a glance at her, he left the room, slamming the door shut and clicking the lock into place.

…

Meanwhile, in the library, Nel had woken up. The moonlight settled directly on her eyes, slowly coaxing her out of her slumber. Stretching and yawning, she stood up and looked around for Orihime. When she couldn't find her, she mentally kicked herself for being too laid back with the human. Ulquiorra was sure to reprimand her for it later…

'_What's this? This wasn't here before…" _Nel set her eyes on the yearbook resting in the chair in front of her, "_A yearbook! Guess I'll take this with me so I can draw mustaches on their pictures!"_

Tucking the book in the crook of her arm, she set off to her room.

* * *

**A/N: Ulquiorra vomiting earlier in this chapter will be explained **_**very **_**soon. And no. He is not pregnant.**

Please leave a review! It really is a nice reward after slaving over a new chapter for you guys!  
Tell me if you enjoy it so far! Or if you guys have absolutely any questions, feel free to ask and I reply to all~  



	11. The Process of Change

**Uhh… A little warning. There's going to be quite a bit of vulgarity with Grimmjow and Nnoitra on stage together.**

* * *

"Grimmjow… you _fucking_ _bastard_…!" Nnoitra was fast approaching him in the hallway, his twigs-for-legs stomping on the carpet.

"'sup Spoo— Whoa, the fuck?"

Nnoitra lunged his arm forward to grip the blue-haired man's collar, his slanted eyes narrowing with menace.

"YOU WERE FUCKING NELLIEL BEHIND MY BACK, YOU DIPSHIT!" he spat quite literally.

"What the hell are you talkin' about, man?" Grimmjow shoved the lanky man back to gain his ground. The blue-haired Hollow wiped the disgusting saliva off his cheek and fixed the collar of his shirt.

"Don't play retarded, you fucktard," Nnoitra hissed. His violet eyes were alight with immeasurable rage, "Nelliel's pregnant and I sure as hell ain't the father!"

"Whaaaat?! That's sick, Spoon. Take some responsibility for your mistakes."

Before Grimmjow could see it coming, Nnoitra punched him square in the face, shattering the cartilage of his nose. Grimmjow staggered back whilst glaring at Nnoitra, pinching the bridge of his nose to snap it back into place, "THE _FUCK_!" he growled.

"Bastard," Nnoitra muttered at the blue-haired man. He clenched his fists.

Nnoitra was confused. Why was he blind with anger? Why did he care so much about that little whore. Could Hollows even get pregnant?

Honestly, he just wanted to take his frustration out on someone and Nel hadn't been around for him to abuse her. Not that he went that far.

He shoved his hands into his pockets and scoffed at Grimmjow who was still staring at him with mild shock and a bleeding nose. Nnoitra turned away and began to head towards the one person he was sure Nel would talk to if something were to ever happen to her.

"Oi! Don't think you can just leave, you piece of shit!" Grimmjow shot after him and extended his arms out for a tackle, but Nnoitra kicked him out of the way. Grimmjow breathed out a pained "oomph" before sliding down against the wall. He fixated his bright blue eyes at Nnoitra with a scowl. Grimmjow was fully aware he wasn't a match for the skinny man, but he couldn't just let him leave without a fight.

"Not in the mood, Grimmjow," Nnoitra sneered.

Turning back towards the direction of his large kitchen, he prepared his excuse to talk to Ulquiorra's "pet".

...

Orihime lay curled up on her bed, quietly humming nonsense under her breath to stave off her boredom.

It had been a few days since she had seen Ulquiorra. And Nel.

Their job as her chaperone had been taken up by either Grimmjow or Szayel. Personally, she preferred the pink-haired scientist, especially after learning how he enjoyed mixing up concoctions to see how the end product would turn out. As they walked, they would chatter about certain ingredients and the disasters or successes that came along with it, despite the fact that Szayel's materials tended to be a bit… exotic and far different from what she had in mind. It reminded her of her days of cooking with Tatsuki.

Grimmjow on the other hand was a whole different plane of experience. The day would be riddled with awkwardness. Orihime would desperately attempt to lighten the mood by engaging him in conversation, but she was hardly ever replied. And if she did receive one, it was often a grunt of indifference. Even if it wasn't a yes or no question.

The auburn-haired girl sighed and rolled onto her back, her eyes fixated on the velvet canopy of her bed.

She missed her friends dearly. Every now and then her thoughts would wander to the question 'are they looking for me?' or 'have they forgotten about me?'. Orihime didn't know what day it was. There were no calendars, no clocks, no electronics other than a refrigerator and other household appliances of course. It was as if time itself had stopped in Las Noches. Did Christmas already go by…? Where are they…? What are they doing…?

Orihime sat up when she heard a light knock on the door, "Come in!" she called, secretly hoping it was Ulquiorra. Even though Ulquiorra tended to her poorly, she still found him the most amusing to be with. She still had so much to ask him…

"Uhh," the door parted slightly and Nnoitra popped his head into her room.

"Nnoitra-san? What brings you here? Come in!" Orihime blinked. This was rare.

_This is really awkward_, Nnoitra thought. He let himself in, but stood uneasily near the doorway with her breakfast in hand.

"Oh!" Orihime perked up, "You can set that there."

Nnoitra did as told and then resumed his awkward position at the door.

"Is there something you need?" she stared quizzically at him.

"Have you seen Nelliel? Err, I mean, has she told you anythin' weird?"

Orihime shook her head slowly, cocking her head to the side, "I haven't seen Nel for almost a week now… Why? Is something wrong, Nnoitra-san?"

Nnoitra brought a hand out of his pocket and scratched his chin, "She's been throwin' up a lot and stuff and normally that means yer pregnant right?"

"I-I think so…" Orihime fidgeted, taken aback by the strange subject. Nel? _Pregnant_? "Sorry if I'm wrong, but… wouldn't you be the one to know?"

"Wha— Hell no!" Nnoitra clamored, "I haven't done anything like… that to her!" he threw his hands up in exasperation. He left the room and slammed the door shut with an audible click of the lock before Orihime could say another word.

"Well that was strange…" Orihime whispered to herself.

Deciding to brush the issue off for now, she headed to the bathroom to freshen herself up. Looked like no one was planning to come by and whisk her out of her boredom today either.

...

It was getting worse.

Ulquiorra jolted upright in his chair and exhaled loudly. His head was splitting in two, his cheeks burning red, and his normally quiet heart was pulsing at an unusual pace. The ebony-haired boy had not been sleeping 30 minutes until he was immersed in a very sensual dream concerning the usual participants, Murcielago and Orihime.

Suddenly, Ulquiorra felt some liquid-like substance drip onto the back of his gloved hand which lay in his lap. Crimson stained the white cotton. His nose was bleeding.

Knowing what was about to happen, he immediately removed himself from where he was sleeping and headed to the bathroom. There, he spent ten minutes hurling whatever contents were left in his stomach while pinching the bridge of his nose to stall the blood flow.

'_What is happening to me?'_

He dared to lift his head and look at his reflection. Several images of that unchanging white mask with toxic green tear streaks displayed amongst the jagged shards of his broken mirror and it angered him somehow.

Hollows couldn't get sick. Ulquiorra had been a Hollow for over a century and his body had never acted so frail… so _human_.

It was about midday. Ulquiorra had not been sleeping well at all so he had been falling asleep at random intervals only to be woken up from his vivid dreams. He prepared himself and gathered what strength he had left to head to the only intelligent being in Las Noches.

Having arrived at the pink-haired scientist's door, he rapped on it lightly and was immediately ushered in with utmost high spirits.

"I'll make some tea," Szayel sang, his voice diminishing as he exited his living room. Ulquiorra sat patiently and quietly as the scientist did so.

"Ulquiorra? Ulquiorra! _Ulquiorra_!"

"Would you quiet that mouth of yours, Szayelaporro?" Ulquiorra mumbled. He blinked the exhaustion away and sat upright. Had he fallen asleep in such a short amount of time?

"Well drink some tea. I put something in it that might help keep you up a bit longer. At least long enough for you to tell me what's on your mind, but I can already assume."

Ulquiorra eyed the self-proclaimed genius warily.

"I didn't poison it," Szayel rolled his eyes, somewhat offended.

Ulquiorra nodded once to him and sipped it tenderly. Bitter.

"So… you're vomiting, you have severe dehydration, sleep deprivation, epistaxis…"

"How do you know all of this?" Ulquiorra glowered at him slightly, feeling affronted by his intrusion on his personal business.

"Don't be silly, Ulquiorra. It doesn't take a genius to look at you and already know what's going on," he chuckled.

"Then what is happening to me?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Szayel paused, "Well, vomiting is a sign that your body is rejecting rapid change."

"Change? How could Hollows _change_?" Ulquiorra was starting to feel like Szayel was spewing nonsense out of his mouth.

"Exactly. How can _Hollows_ change?" Szayel looked at him straight in the eye, "Who _does_ change, Ulquiorra? Figuratively speaking of course."

_Humans._

Szayel leaned back with a smug expression, watching Ulquiorra's eyes widen with realization.

"As for your dreams… How long has this been going on?"

"About a week."

Szayel merely nodded. The answer couldn't be simpler, but he knew he would have a hard time convincing Ulquiorra, "That girl, Orihime… don't you think she has something to do with it?"

"Are you saying she is the cause of this?" _Do I have to kill her? _Ulquiorra's headache was throbbing excruciatingly.

Szayel decided to avoid answering that particular question, "Nose bleeding can be a result of your body heating up very suddenly when the actual environment is cold… Tell me, have you been getting reactions from down _there_?" he inquired.

Ulquiorra scrutinized him, "Now is not the time to be evasive, Szayelaporro. Just say it." He really had no clue what the pink-haired man meant by 'there'. His head was threatening to split open and the damn man had the nerve to be ambiguous…

Szayel sighed and clarified more firmly, "Have you been getting _hard-ons_."

Ulquiorra felt his face heat up so he clamped his lips tightly together into a thin line.

"Do you think, perhaps, you're sexually attracted to Inoue Orihime-san?"

It was when Szayel asked this that Ulquiorra was taking a sip from his tea which he had unceremoniously spat out, "Sex— what— this is ridiculous," he sputtered, completely baffled by Szayel's notions.

"I feel that I need to remind you that there are only three things that Hollows and Humans differ in: First, Hollows are dead. Second, we lack a heart. And no, obviously not the ones pumping blood and oxygen throughout our body right now, but the intangible spirit of one. We cannot experience human sensations such as sympathy, love, and trust. And _third_," he pressed, "we have awesome powers."

Ulquiorra wasn't an idiot though.

He was fully aware of what _lust _and _love _are. Emotions were highly disregarded by the raven-haired boy – the human sensations would only bring him disaster. But just because he avoided the unnecessary emotions doesn't mean he wouldn't know when he would be under their spell at any minute.

It was undeniable that he lusted significantly for the girl. What man wouldn't? She was a beauty beyond his small-minded comprehension. When he first saw her, he only hungered for her soul. To bury his fangs within her crimson arteries and taste the pure sweetness of her blood coursing past his tongue. And run his gloved hands against her curves that dipped just slightly beneath her plump breasts.

Hollows cannot love.

But do you not classify the act of your heart beating rapidly when you see a particular face love? When one repeatedly says they wish to see or be with that particular person uncommonly more, is that not called love?

So far, Ulquiorra only understood that love was like a disease. It made you sick to your stomach and your heart pump irregularly. No matter how much you try to prevent contracting it, you will inevitably receive it if you continue to expose yourself. And it was incurable – although some suggest that ice cream and chocolates may dull whatever pain you receive from it.

Szayel said his body was rejecting change.

Was he in love? Is that what it means to be in love?

"Ridiculous…," he muttered, his face still glowing hot. Szayel's brow rose in silent amusement.

"I can tell you how to fix everything," Szayel waited until he had Ulquiorra's full attention. He had just come up with a brilliant plan. Though he was normally disinterested in topics that didn't concern science and body mutilation, he did enjoy driving people insane, "Invite her to be your partner for the upcoming Christmas Masquerade Ball."

"How would that fix anything?" Ulquiorra asked in disbelief. Szayel smirked.

"I think it's about time you stop asking yourself questions… and start getting some answers."

...

Completely disoriented and discontent from his talk with his "counselor", Ulquiorra treaded back to his room with his hands stuffed into his pockets. He had accidentally fallen asleep in Szayel's room not long after he finished his tea and the scientist hadn't bothered him knowing how deprived he was of rest. When he awoke, it was late in the evening, but he still felt exhausted.

He was just passing by Orihime's open door when he heard the hushed, light chatter of female voices.

"Can you tell me what's wrong, Nel-san?" he heard Orihime speak. Ulquiorra leaned his shoulder against the wall outside of her room, fully aware he was eavesdropping, but didn't feel well enough at that moment to care.

"I-I can't Orihime-chan… It's really horrible," Nel sniffled, but then began to bawl.

"There, there…"

A moment of silence.

"So you and Nnoitra…"

Another moment of silence.

"You can tell me whenever you feel that you're ready, Nel-san, but I really think you should talk to Nnoitra-san about this…"

"I-I know… It's just a lot to handle all at once and— oh, Orihime-chan. I'm so sorry for bursting into your room like this all of a sudden. I've been crying for days under my sheets and I finally mustered the strength to come see you."

"Thank you, Nel-san, but really, you should take it easy! I might not know firsthand what you're going through, but I understand that it must be horrifying if you can't even speak of it to me."

"You're right. I'll speak to Nnoitra right away. I think that'll make me feel better even if he decides to leave me."

Ulquiorra heard some rustling and took the sound as a cue to leave, hearing the soft echoes of goodbyes behind him as he walked off.

He was hardly interested in whatever their topic was, but he couldn't help but be drawn to the girl's soft voice. Did it always sound so cheerful? So light and airy, but singing all the same? Ulquiorra began to feel conscious of whether she talked to him the same carefree way and imagining the way she would smile in between sentences. He knew those fiery brown tresses and bright, silver eyes that clashed against the black-and-white of his world added more than color and warmth.

She meant so much more to him than he previously thought.

Ulquiorra never realized the human girl could make such an impact in his life. He had planned to use her, wring her dry of her usefulness (she had yet to tap into her dormant powers), but somehow she had distracted him.

Was it on purpose? No, the girl was not that quick-witted much to his frustration. Orihime wasn't capable of deceiving anyone much less herself unless the subject pertained to a certain orange-haired Shinigami. That is, her infatuation towards him even though Ulquiorra never saw anything special in the human.

Suddenly, an image of her smiling walking side-by-side of said male made something in his stomach flutter nervously. He paused momentarily in his step and placed a hand over his abdomen. What was that? Was he hungry? Hollows do not hunger for human food. Yet he just felt something strange there. He didn't feel anger or hate towards the boy. He wouldn't spend a moment's thought on such trivial emotions.

_Jealousy_?

He still had so much to learn from Inoue Orihime.

Perhaps he will invite her to be his partner for the ball. Remembering the way her face lit underneath the ambient lighting of the ballroom and the feeling of her tiny hand in his palm as they danced made his stomach churn in excitement.

_Excitement_?

By the time Ulquiorra reached the shambled remnants of what he called his room, he was a complete mess and utterly confused. Waves of emotions were flowing into him and he had trouble labeling the new sensations as they would come. He admitted to himself that he did feel fear. Fear of himself. Of what he was becoming. If he felt resolved to do anything, it would be to get rid of the source:

Orihime.

...

Nel just entered her room only to smack her nose into a wall, "Ow…"

"Nelliel? Where've ya been?!" Nnoitra grabbed her by the shoulders and began to shake her roughly.

"Nnoitra?" she garbled out as he shook her. It wasn't a wall after all, "Would you quit th—" Nel jerked herself out of his grasp, pushed past him and into the bathroom and began to retch loudly into the toilet. Nnoitra stood there watching her, stunned and possibly guilty.

Honestly, Nnoitra had never witnessed Nel throwing up. A random room service maid happened to inform him when he was walking around thinking that he'd care enough to tend to her. Though he never spared any time for her and instead went straight to Grimmjow to vent his anger and confusion.

When Nel finished and cleaned up, she sat next to Nnoitra where he sat on the bed.

"We need to talk," she initiated.

"Obviously," he scoffed. Nel rolled her eyes.

"Look. If you don't care, then you can just leave!" she screeched. Nel launched herself off the mattress and stood before him, but her back was still turned to him. He continued to glare at her back silently, but made no move to leave.

Nel was beginning to doubt if she should tell him. She was already suffering enough. But then Nnoitra had a right to know.

"Well?"

She didn't know where to begin. So she began to mouth the words that had been swirling in her head ever since her memories came back. It was all she could ever think about. That and…

"Hello?!" Nnoitra was poking her aggressively, impatient as he was.

"I… I-I was…"

"Spit it already!"

"I was pregnant."

Nnoitra stared at her with wide eyes, his skin suddenly feeling cold against the bitter air and a knot was twisting in his throat.

"Did you hear that, Nnoitra?" Nel hissed. Swiftly, she turned to face him and roughly grabbed his arm for emphasis, her aqua curls bouncing lightly around her face as she did so, "I was pregnant. With _your_ child."

Quickly recovering, he shrugged Nel off his arm, "You're fucking crazy if you think saying that shit will get my attention."

She staggered back and immediately, her eyes watered. Nel _knew _ this was going to happen, but she had to persist.

Nnoitra _did_ want to know what was going on, but his pride was getting the best of him. This was the girl who drove him crazy. Made his body ache in places where it shouldn't be. Seeing her made him upset, angry, depressed, but he couldn't tear himself away from her. It felt like invisible chains held them together by the ankles.

"Nnoitra, you have to listen! _Please_," she pleaded, her voice cracking as tears began to spill from her large eyes. She fumbled with his sleeves again, clinging on as she cried on helplessly and loudly.

Nnoitra grew still and surveyed her. He had never seen the woman cry like this before and the very sight of it now was keeping his mouth shut in confusion. Nel may have the humor and antics of a child, but her stance was always strong. She was always so hard headed.

"That isn't all, Nnoitra…" releasing her grip on him, she slumped down to her knees and dug her palms into the hollows of her eyes. Gingerly, she placed a hand down to her abdomen, and lowered her head while her tears refused to stop spilling.

"But that's not all of it. Read this… maybe your memories will come back to you just as it did for me."

...

Somehow, Orihime had made it to the library without being caught.

Unbeknownst to Nel, the brown-eyed girl had walked out of her room without locking the door. Orihime waited about an hour until she decided to move out and continue her research, not bothering to change out of her night gown. She planned not to be seen by anyone anyway.

_Poor Nel, _Orihime thought, _she must have so much going on in her mind._

Light on her feet, she made her way to a certain shelf of books she had yet to go through. Fingering the old books**'** spines and softly reading their titles under her breath; she felt at peace. The library had been her go-to place for solitude. Living under the same roof that housed soul-eating pseudohumanswas rather taxing despite being locked in her room alone for hours at a time, but that too was stressful. Just a minute with Grimmjow or Nnoitra was bound to set her nerves on fire.

As she searched for an interesting title, Orihime thought back to Nel.

The teal-haired girl was so kind. And beautiful. How could she be a Hollow? She had human morals, she could feel love and trust, and she had a sense of justice. She was charming and funny like a child too. Maybe you didn't have to be a monster to become a Hollow. Maybe all it took was an unbelievable amount of grieving and despair. And considering the way Nel was acting earlier, perhaps that applied to her.

To be so distraught with agony and anguish that you transform into a monster… What a lonely, horrible curse.

The young girl grabbed a children's book with a sort-of-funny title and quickly flipped through it, giggling at the comical pictures and large font of cliché, child-like phrases. She gently placed it back where it belonged and paced next to the bookshelf as her silver eyes scanned the myriads of labels.

She pressed her hand on a book and sighed, leaning slightly on her hand to distribute her weight onto it. Orihime yelped in surprise rather loudly when she felt the book shift back under her weight and she clambered to regain her composure. Where the book once rested was an opening to a small, dark alcove. The book must have disappeared inside of it.

Orihime nervously glanced behind her and around the room, her face feeling hot from embarrassment even though no one had witnessed the incident. "Oops," she whispered.

'_How mysterious…_,' she thought as she shoved her hand inside of the opening. The alcove was small – about the size of a donut box for a dozen. She felt around for the book but her fingers touched something cold and hard instead.

Orihime hesitated for a moment before curling her fingers around the small object and pulling it out.

It was a key.

'_What is a key doing here…?'_ she inspected the metal, the small object reminding her of those keys that came along with pubescent teenage girl's diary. Quickly, she slipped the key into her bra since her nightgown had no pockets.

"Inoue Orihime."

Orihime turned around, gasping aloud and stepping back when her eyes met with large, emerald orbs.

"U-Ulquiorra! I-I… uh… my escort…!"

"Inoue Orihime," he repeated slowly. Ulquiorra began to walk towards her, his eyes never leaving hers and his dark lips set into a thin, straight line. Instinctually, the auburn-haired girl backed up until she was pressed against the bookshelf.

Surely, Ulquiorra was enraged that she had been wandering around unattended. Would he punish her? Orihime really wished she could see past those gleaming, viridian eyes and into his thoughts. At the moment, he looked terrifying even though he looked no different than he always did. Always frowning, always sad.

Ulquiorra paused not too far from her. His head tilted slightly down to look at her. Orihime's breath hitched in her throat as her fingers curled into the fabric of her nightgown.

"These past few days have been torturous for me," he spoke. Ulquiorra's voice sounded different. Not only did he speak so fast that his sentence blurred into one word, but it sounded strained. As if he hadn't spoken since they last saw each other. Orihime remained silent, her gray eyes shimmering with awe.

"Dreams have been plaguing me for nights. Dreams of _you._ Though I cannot fathom why, it frustrates me to no end. Despite your humanity, your naivety, and your pureness, I cannot help, but feel drawn to you. You are everything I am not and everything I wish to not be…" he paused, "And so putting these differences aside, I humbly ask you to end my misery," he continued, his speech said under one breath. Ulquiorra ran his gloved fingers through his raven-black hair, sighing in frustration.

Orihime's eyes widened in shock at his sudden change in character, "You're not making any sense… I-I don't understa—"

"I need you."

Her heart skipped a beat. The silence was overbearing.

"Looking at you now, I know that you are the only one that can stop this gnawing pain inside me," slowly, he brought his hand next to her cheek and twirled a lock of chestnut hair around his index and middle finger all the while gazing into her eyes with immense intensity.

Orihime was struck mute and unflinching, all too aware of his close proximity and the sound of his soft, husky breathing. His eyes searched her bewildered expression for an answer, but developed an unusual fascination at the sight of her quivering, pink lips. Looking past her milky neck, her nightgown flowed loosely around her hips and barely concealed the round scoops of vanilla that were her breasts.

She felt him staring at her body and she grew flustered. The blush that spilled from her cheeks and coated her neck and breasts made her look all the more appealing to Ulquiorra.

He couldn't hold back. Just like before. The girl's scent was intoxicating and those soft petals of her mouth parting in quiet wonder…

Ever so slightly, he bent forward, his eyelids flickering as his lips neared hers.

* * *

**What happened between Nel and Nnoitra? What's going on with Ulquiorra?  
Without even realizing it, Orihime has finally spun the wheel of fate! All the pieces are being brought together! But it seems a little too well planned out doesn't it? Stay tuned and your questions will be answered!  
**

*******Ulquiorra's OOCness near the end will be explained next chapter.  
*Next chapter will be officially Rated M. Can you guess why?  
**

******Like it so far? Hated it? Have no opinion one way or the other? Please leave a review! I would greatly appreciate it~  
**


	12. Vertigo

**I've decided to try a little idea I got from another fanfic... a miniature contest concerning guessing the title of the next chapter! The words I will be choosing will be closely related to the chapter of course. I will be providing a sneak peak of the next chapter at the end to give you guys a hint. And to help you guys out even more, I'll give you the letter the title will start with. Reviews will get one point and reviewers will get two points whether or not they can guess the word for the next letter. The winner will get a one-shot or an art request dedicated to them on a subject of their choosing with that pairing. So there will be three winners in all.**

**If you didn't know that I'm an UlquiHime artist yet, feel free to check out my profile and from there you can decide whether or not I'm worthy enough for you~**

**Good luck!**

**Now I present to you… a full chapter dedicated to UlquiHime! And finally, without the restraints of remaining Rated T!  
**

* * *

Throughout his entire existence, Ulquiorra had felt nothing. The closest thing he had felt was 'void' itself. He had no voice, no conscience, no taste. All he had were his emerald green eyes. The things reflected in his eyes held no meaning. Those contorted expressions of fear and disbelief; with a crooked frown or wrinkle of the brow when they realized their death lay at the edge of his blood-soaked sword.

…Nothing.

He was alone.

Ulquiorra wasn't lonely. He preferred the solitude. Emotions, he had observed, made people weak. Made them sick. Caused them to make poor decisions. He only had to witness a few events to deem it worthless and a nuisance.

The 'heart' is what kills these humans. It gives them hope. Turns them blind.

When something is 'cold', it means that it lacks heat. One does not 'get cold' - only 'loses heat'.

That was Ulquiorra's blood coursing through his arteries and veins. _Cold_. When he killed countless humans, either for the duty bestowed upon him by his lord Aizen or by choice, his blood ran cold. He felt nothing for he lacked heat.

And then when the girl came along, the monochrome grayness of his life was set ablaze. Just like those fiery brown strands that sweep the air and cascade down her curvaceous back like a waterfall made of sunlight. She was on fire. And so was he.

Ulquiorra knew deep down that it was a bad idea to let her stay. But he couldn't let her go. Not that night when he held her bleeding, limp form in his arms; not when she had been threatened by Numb Chandelier… He was curious about humans and about _her._ After all, he never had a chance to be a normal human. He had been a monster from the day Aizen found him rotting away in the slums of Spain over a hundred years ago.

And then the dreams began.

It was ironic how these dreams came to be. They had come to him so suddenly. No, not suddenly. Rather like fireworks being launched into the void of the night sky with no star in sight. You could hear its initial leaving and perhaps trail it as it reaches its destination, but it would spontaneously explode with all the color and vibrancy that one would not expect had they not known what a firework was.

They became increasingly sexual. After so many dreams, Ulquiorra was convinced that Murcielago was the very manifestation of his feral Hollow side and Ulquiorra himself was human. Whereas Orihime… was everything he was not.

It continued along like this:  
Murcielago would position himself behind Orihime while she mounted on top of him. It was the way Murcielago would tie up her hands behind her back with that long, whip-like tail and tug her backwards ever so slightly to have her back arch into Ulquiorra that would nearly drive him to the edge. And then the winged beast would grip her hips with those black talons and ravish her with such animosity that the movements would coax Ulquiorra to jerk his hips into Orihime's slippery inner thighs.

Ulquiorra's ears would be filled with the music of sensual moaning and rhythmic grunts, of panting and flesh slapping against flesh; Orihime singing "more", begging "please" and both Ulquiorra and Murcielago would ignore her wishes and instead set their own uneven, unforgiving pace.

Whenever Ulquiorra would hit that sweet, delicate knot of nerves within Orihime, she would lower her head and shudder violently, crying for him to never stop or else she was sure to fall apart. Murcielago, amused and eyeing the tender, red love bites scattered about her back, would jerk her wrists back suddenly with his tail just enough to have her taut nipples brush repeatedly against the bare flesh of Ulquiorra's chest as he continued to pleasure her. Murcielago would further wrap his tail around Orihime's thighs, weaving past her swollen clit so she could rub against it, then rest just beneath her rear. That raw, feral side of Ulquiorra loved to see her round, smooth flesh in his grasp, relishing in squeezing and slapping his hips against it. With clouded eyes, her sweat would drip from her chin and her mouth would fill with water, unable to find the moment to swallow.

His favorite moment was when she would cum. He would soak in the sight of her on top of him with mild amusement and half-lidded, drunken-with-pleasure eyes as her walls clenched mercilessly around him. When she would throw her head back to scream his name, he would find purchase on the silky skin of her neck and clamp his fangs on her, claiming her. And her back would dip inwards so much that Murcielago would only have to bend slightly over to suckle harshly on the rounded edge of her shoulder blade. Ulquiorra restrained the moan in his throat as she too milked him with all her tightness.

His Hollow counterpart would never slow, never falter. And when he finished, it would be sudden – just another hard thrust and he would jolt to a stop, his large black wings twitching marginally and his tail coiling tighter around Orihime's wrists as he filled her.

It was inevitable that Ulquiorra would feel completely unnerved and disturbed when he woke up from that dream.

Dazed and still suffering from the aftershock, the young-looking boy got up and resumed his usual routine of expelling his stomach's contents that he had grown accustomed to doing when he would wake up. His head and groin were pulsing tiresomely and his muscles sore from being tense for as long as he was asleep. And much to his dismay, he was only asleep for forty minutes. It was close to midnight.

After envisioning such forbidden and wanton scenes, Ulquiorra refused to continue sleeping. He figured he would spend the rest of the night holed up in his archive and read a book until dawn.

That was until he saw the girl.

Seeing her dressed in that awfully revealing, translucent nightgown, Ulquiorra's body had immediately gone in autopilot. Like a predator desiring to sink their fangs into vulnerable flesh and to satiate the pain that accompanied that emptiness of hunger. The beams of moonlight flooding into the library from the glass ceiling highlighted her features and made her skin glow. All those nights of unrest had finally taken its toll and he lost all comprehension of what was going on. Of what was spilling out of his mouth.

But he was regaining his composure and he realized a bit too soon what he was about to do.

Suddenly, Ulquiorra grabbed her shoulders and pushed her away. Orihime leaned back, her eyes wide with confusion.

To avoid eye contact with Orihime, Ulquiorra turned his head to the side, his brow knotted in mild embarrassment for his actions. His heart was bound to leap out of his chest with the abnormal pace it was beating.

To Ulquiorra, there was no meaning in kissing. The action was unnecessary. He would never understand why humans often participated in such a ritual. And yet he was so close to feeling those flush lips pressed tenderly against his. To feel their warmth…

She was too pure for him.

She was so helplessly confused. Something was obviously wrong with Ulquiorra and she felt utterly lost. How can she help him? Orihime wanted him to open up to her. When he finally did, it only made things more complicated! She opened her mouth to speak, but clamped her lips shut when unable to find the words she was looking for.

'_I need you'_ he said.

Did he just confess that he… liked her?

Orihime was gaining a headache. Quite rapidly. And she had to make a move now or Ulquiorra would distance himself from her even further. These past few days have been a torture to her also. Not being able to see him, not being able to hear his deep, sultry, but comforting voice, or having the opportunity to ask him questions and teach him new things.

For Ichigo; even if she stretched out her hand, it would never seem to reach him. On the contrary, Ulquiorra was the one that reached out to her. Saved her more than once both literally and metaphorically. The least she could do… was save him.

"Forgive me," Ulquiorra whispered under his breath, turning his back to her, "I'm not… accustomed to these sensations. There are still many things I need to learn."

She had to do something. '_For once, Orihime, you have to _do_ something!' _she screamed internally.

"Then, maybe, you should start learning now," she reached out to him and jerked him back by the collar of his coat, forcing him to turn back to her so she could press her lips against his.

Orihime felt Ulquiorra's body tense up around her, his lips rough and chapped, and his emerald eyes gleaming with apprehensiveness. She shut her eyes and tightened her grip on his collar, refusing to let him leave and deny her initiation. Eventually, Ulquiorra gave way and closed his eyes, his dark lips softening against hers as he returned her kiss and wrapped his arms around her waist to bring her body closer to his.

Honestly, kissing the leader of a group of Hollows was the last thing that any rational human being would do, but Orihime was known to be irrational. She hardly even knew him!

Orihime was always the type to stay at the sidelines waiting for an opportunity; watching others fight on the front lines and occasionally yelling words of encouragement to them. Even though she _knew_ she had that power to be by their side, she was a coward. An irrational, ignorant human being. Perhaps that was why her friends decided to keep her away from their double life - isolating her because she couldn't make any solid decisions.

And just when she finally made a decision, she finds herself in the arms of Ulquiorra Cifer with her fingers curling into his midnight black hair and her lips parting slightly to sigh against his. His body was smoldering hot underneath her touch; Orihime was sure that he was experiencing a fever, but his gesture never wavered and his kiss was so steady. Ulquiorra held her tight against his chest as if desperate to keep her, but the way Orihime's fingers brushed past his porcelain mask, against his temple, and then down to his chin in silent encouragement was enough evidence that she had no intention of leaving.

Their kiss shifted into something more passionate and heated; the silence of their embrace only shattered by the fleeting seconds used to gasp for air. They locked lips again and again and again. Ulquiorra angled his chin slightly to the side to caress her soft, swollen lips with his while his nimble hands roamed her side, clenching and unclenching the translucent silk of her outfit.

Orihime thirstily absorbed his lust for her and equally returned his gestures with her own. Her fingers lightly brushed aside his dark bangs as he laid rose-petal marks upon her neck and jawbone alternatively, her soft panting occasionally partnered with a sigh of his name.

Orihime had been in love with Ichigo for so long, she never realized that her chest stopped aching longingly at the thought of him. She supposed falling out of love would be painful; watching Ichigo hand-in-hand with Rukia, a smile on both of their faces… it was beyond her imagination how she would feel when that moment would come.

So when Ulquiorra was the one to carry her from the darkness of that fate, it was only natural that she would let him.

While Ulquiorra bit and licked at every inch of exposed skin on her body with heavy-lidded emerald eyes, Orihime's body was flowing with adrenaline, but her mind was as muddled as ever. She slowly felt herself sinking into him, not realizing that she was so close to him that their silhouettes had merged into one in the dark room.

Ulquiorra's hands wandered past her back and hovered above her rear. No, he decided that he will refrain from grabbing the round flesh of her ass to avoid startling her. The moment was perfect and he wasn't going to let his perverseness ruin it. Instead, his hands slid up her arms again, caressingly.

When Orihime felt the spaghetti strap of her gown slip to the side, she instinctively flinched in surprise. Ulquiorra leaned back to look into her clouded, gray eyes, but said not a word. Flushing a deep red, she veered her gaze from him and bit down on her bottom lip.

"I won't hurt you."

She nodded, yet ironically, the fresh bites littering her collarbone and neck twitched with minimal pain.

Orihime didn't know what she was doing anymore. She didn't care. She wanted more of him. Ulquiorra was filling the emptiness Ichigo had left in her heart and it felt… _great_. And she was sure she was filling the void in his also. This sense of mutualism spurred her darkest feelings towards him and she began to view him in a different light.

She was seeing a different side of him. And it wasn't so bad.

Foreseeing her muted reply as consent for him to continue, he eagerly brushed the other strap to the side and her gown pooled around her feet like water. He stared down at her with reserved awe. Orihime still refused to look at him, feeling the weight his eyes shamelessly memorizing her. She quietly trembled in anticipation and timidity.

Ulquiorra hushed her body by enveloping her with his and catching her mouth with his lips. She was caught by surprise, her eyes snapping wide open. Orihime grew hyper sensitive towards his body, fully aware that he was flushed against every inch of her exposed skin - although she was still wearing her underwear. He pushed himself onto her and she stepped back, only to be halted by the bookshelf behind her. A few books were jostled out of their place and fell to the ground around them with muted thumps.

It was incredible. Just moments ago, he shunned the idea of dwelling further into his relationship with the girl, but now he feels as though he were drowning. She was pouring in so many sensations… it was overwhelmingly beautiful. And being the curious boy that Ulquiorra was, he wanted to test her. Taste her. Touch her. Discover, claim, and mutilate her in every tender, delicate way.

His movements became needier yet she could tell he was restraining himself as he clumsily placed his hands on her shoulders. Her legs began to shake uncontrollable and she felt as though her limbs had given up all their strength.

Together, they slowly slid to the ground as they passionately kissed. Orihime wrapped her legs around his waist and curled her fingers into his hair, arching into him and moaning quietly as he licked the corner of her mouth. Ulquiorra cradled her in his lap, daring to lower his hands and place them at her sides. She shivered in response and groaned discontentedly into his mouth at the feeling of his gloved hands.

Ulquiorra's hands wandered from her waist and up her shoulders, only to drag them back down to her wrists. He toyed with the silver bracelet that adorned her tiny wrist while he kissed her.

"I will take this off for you," implying that things were about to get rough. Orihime's silver eyes gleamed with anxiety as he did so.

"You need to take off something too," she whispered lowly into his ear. It took every bit of his will to not take her right then and there.

He took off his gloves and awkwardly rested them on her waist. She shivered at his cool touch and sighed. Ulquiorra looked into her eyes, adoring the shade of red her face garnered. Disliking the distance between them, she clumsily brought his lips toward hers and kissed him deeply. Orihime tilted her head to the side to expose the creamy skin of her unclaimed chest and he hesitantly lowered his lips to kiss her there. She laughed lightly, her breasts slightly bouncing underneath his chin as he continued to plant a trail of small kisses there.

"That tickles," she bubbled.

At this moment, they were both adolescents. Their groping was clumsy, their breath shaky and filled with adrenaline, and their hearts screaming for more. The boy was not a monster. The girl was not human. They were young at heart.

Ulquiorra was nervous. Like pubescent, teenage boy nervous. His hands were shaking mechanically and his mind torn between going for it and holding back for her sake. He wanted to touch her. _God_, he wanted to _touch_ her, but he didn't want to frighten her. She was so fragile. Hell, he didn't even know why she was letting him touch her in the first place. Maybe she felt sympathy towards him. The woman was too kind for her own good.

Sensing his hesitation, Orihime held both of his hands and looked sweetly at him, "I'm not afraid," she smiled. Slowly, she guided his hands to rest atop her bra and Ulquiorra nearly gaped at her in astonishment. Orihime blushed even further.

His fingertips were refreshing. She could feel them resting gently above the cups of her bra. Cold and new… it was both unwanted and yearned for. The breach of another barrier between them was shattered and she shuddered.

Orihime squeezed his hands, silently encouraging him to have his way. Shaking himself out of his reverie, he tested her by squeezing the flesh once. The second time with a bit more pressure. He watched her expression change warily. Orihime bit the inside of her cheek and watched Ulquiorra toy with her breasts with mild fascination swimming in his green eyes.

Lured in by the sight of her breasts overfilling his hands, he boldly leaned forward and began to suckle on the spot of her bra where he could feel a hard nub inhaled sharply when he lightly skimmed his fangs against her bra and brushed his thumb against the taut nipple of the other breast. She whimpered pleadingly into his hair, feeling her body ache for more of his forbidden touches. Ulquiorra jerked his hips into her automatically when she did so, causing her to emit out a deep throaty moan.

Unable to hold back, he gripped the back strap of her bra. The elastic snapped sharply as he roughly tore it off and he immediately captured a trembling nipple between his lips. Orihime squealed in alarm and almost shoved Ulquiorra off, but he had suddenly gripped both her wrists and restrained them at her side.

"U-Ulquio—," she began to sputter, but was cut off by the erotic sound of her own moaning when he teasingly licked at her breast. She struggled to remove her hands from his grasp, but he held on tightly, not even allowing her to retain a grip on anything as shocks of pleasure pulsed throughout her body. Orihime toes curled inward from the influx of sensations and she began to feel dangerously wet in between her thighs.

The auburn-haired beauty felt something hard rub against her wet folds and more heat rose to her cheeks. It was warm; she could feel him throbbing against her sensitive entrance with need. Testily, she grinded her hips just once to rub it against her clit and pleasure immediately shot through her body. Ulquiorra paused and groaned huskily when he felt the pressure of her womanhood momentarily appease the fire in his groin, but his lust for her only grew tenfold. Not wanting to let go of that moment of ecstasy, she rubbed him between her folds again and she shuddered beautifully in delight.

Oh, how would it feel to sink in between those drenched, virgin folds? To have her screaming his name over and over again…

Ulquiorra clamped his teeth down on his bottom lip to suppress a moan and gripped her wrists harder behind her back, willing for her to stop since the waves of pleasure were too much for him to handle in his current, exhausted state. The scent of her desire for _him_ wafted into his nose and he was immediately overwhelmed. He began to see spots of black in his vision and his panting increased in pace as if he were lacking oxygen in his lungs, but Orihime never ceased the grinding motions of her hips.

Suddenly, his head fell limply forward with his forehead resting in between her cleavage. Her wrists were freed from his death grip and she felt his body grow heavy on top of her.

"Ulquiorra…?" Orihime blinked. The only response was the sound of his shallow, even breathing and her heartbeat hammering in her ears.

The raven-haired boy had fallen asleep on her. His chest rose and fell evenly as his breath wafted across her bare chest. Orihime sat their awkwardly, not knowing what to do.

Well, this was awfully anti-climactic.

"Orihime…" he exhaled in his sleep.

She could feel the soft thumping of his heart match hers as he slept and she closed her eyes. It must have been late into the night because once her adrenaline faded, a blanket of drowsiness befell her and removing Ulquiorra and returning to her room had quickly become the last of her thoughts.

Orihime took a deep breath, filling her senses with his scent. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and held him in her lap as she leaned her head back against the bookshelf behind her.

It felt right.

Being with Ulquiorra felt… right.

…

Orihime awoke with a stiff neck the next morning. She groggily lifted her head to immediately notice that head of black hair was no longer tucked in her cleavage. She was alone. Nude - if it weren't for Ulquiorra's jacket which was neatly concealing her body. The young girl immediately reddened as memories of last night flooded into her consciousness.

The entire library was blinding with the amount of sunlight the glass ceiling permitted. She stood up on wobbly legs, put her bra and nightgown back on, and slipped her arms into Ulquiorra's large, black coat. The coat tails were long enough to pat against the back of her lower legs, but the front was so short, it stopped just below her waist. Situating the collar to hide her entire neck, she headed back to her room quietly on sore limbs.

When Orihime was walking through the hallway, she heard a voice call out to her,

"He fucked you _real _hard, didn't he?"

She paused in her step and saw Loly and Menoly walking towards her. She must have been so immersed in her thoughts to not have seen them coming.

"Well?" Loly jeered. Menoly stood by her sister's side, trying to copy Loly's bitchy expression, "Hey, I asked you a question, _slut_."

The chestnut-haired girl began to smolder. How dare this girl speak to her that way? Orihime had done absolutely nothing to her. It reminded her of the days when girls used to tease her about her hair, but she was older now. She can take care of herself. Ulquiorra had lent her that courage.

Orihime didn't feel like dealing with them so she daringly brushed past them with confidence in her step, "Yes," she lied with her back turned to them, "Yes, he did." And then she entered her room without another word, leaving a fuming Loly in the hallway.

Once she was in, she leaned her back against her door, slid down to the floor, and buried her head in her arms on top of her knees.

'_What have I gotten myself into?_ ' Orihime fretted. She sighed. _Well, there was certainly no turning back now._

She took a quick shower, careful not to apply too much pressure on the marks Ulquiorra left on her body. There were so _many_. He might as well have eaten her. Like a lollipop. She smiled to herself as she thought this.

But Orihime knew that Ulquiorra's intentions weren't for love. His kiss held none of that, but it was still full of passion. It was a kiss of need and longing. She could remember the feeling of his fingers scouring her body for fulfillment and the breath of his sigh escaping from his lips when he found that contentment.

What about her? Did she love him? Ulquiorra was no rebound… Their relationship was far too deep for something so superficial.

Once Orihime finished her shower routine and dressed minimally for indoors, she sat on her bed and mindlessly brushed her mopping wet hair. In the corner of her eye, she saw Ulquiorra's coat bundled up next to her on the bed. She took it and, without thought, took a long whiff of it. She loved that smell.

Depression soon overcame her positive thoughts. She really missed Tatsuki. And Ichigo. Goodness, what has she gotten herself into? After last night, she felt more confused than ever. Did she still want to go home? No, she wanted to help Nel… and Ulquiorra. But she couldn't help but feel like she was betraying her friends. And kissing a Hollow like that? Yeah, that was definitely betrayal.

Orihime could admit it now.

Maybe… she liked Ulquiorra. A little.

She really did. Perhaps she did since the first night she met him. Tatsuki always did scold her for falling in love so easily. For example, one day she saw Ichigo as a delinquent, but once she got to know how much of a sweetheart he was, she fell head over heels for him.

Of course, Ulquiorra was different. He wasn't a sweetheart. Ulquiorra was honest towards her and he was the first person not to treat her like a child (even though she acted like one at some points). He gave her strength and resolution. And most of all, he made her feel useful. She was no longer at the sidelines like she was with her friends, staring at Ichigo's back with quiet concern.

Orihime was becoming so overwhelmed with feelings for him that her eyes began to tear up. Her friends… what would they think of her now? Was she betraying her love for Ichigo?

'_Oh…,' _she lamented, '_Could this be Stockholm Syndrome?'_

She dreaded that thought. How could she know if it's not?

Well, for one, Ulquiorra didn't treat her poorly. She slept in a well-furnished room (much more decorative than her apartment), ate luxurious foreign food three times a day (although she could go for more sweets about 7 times a day), and she had the opportunity to become friends with Nel and take walks around the building.

Orihime absently touched the marks that marred her skin from her lower cheek to the tops of her rounded breasts. She felt dirty. It wasn't the marks or the way her body felt violated by the rough pressings of pale fingertips against her frail skin. Or the feeling of his shallow breath skimming over her bare, silky skin.

She just did something very _intimate_ with Ulquiorra. And she _liked_ it. How naughty.

"I'm coming in."

Orihime hastily swiped her face free of tears before the door cracked open, but she failed to remove the redness splayed across her cheeks and around her eyes from crying. Though Orihime made no response, he still made his way in – a tray of her breakfast in his gloved hands.

"Your breakfast," he stated stiffly, but he stood there at the entrance with an awkward rigidness and didn't move to set it down like he usually did.

"Oh, um, thank you," she responded, "You can put it there." He didn't and instead acted as if he never heard her.

Ulquiorra frowned before breaking the silence and finally asked, "Were you crying, onna?"

For the first time in his life, he felt guilt. He had finally learned what humans had meant when they say 'I feel guilty' for he had never felt such a dark mood dampen his thoughts after seeing Orihime's sad expression. It was the awareness that he was the cause of her distress that made him feel on edge, but he wouldn't admit to that.

Was it even appropriate to ask her about the masquerade right now?

_This certainly will not do_, he thought. A flash of _de ja vu_ crossed his mind.

He refused to claim a weak soul. The sight of her vulnerability was unappealing.

That was what he had initially thought last time he saw this familiar expression plastered on her pale, beautiful face. But now, he wasn't so ignorant as to dismiss his feelings for her.

"Oh, no. I had something in my eye," she lied uselessly. Ulquiorra felt a little offended that the girl would ever think that she could trick him with such a petty excuse, but he understood her intentions. It wasn't a lie for him, but for her.

Ulquiorra continued to stare at her and Orihime sat readily for him say whatever was on his mind. When he didn't, she parted her lips to ask, but was immediately cut off.

"Your hair looks good today."

He mentally slapped himself. Out of all the things to say, _that _spilled from his mouth.

"Err… thank you," Orihime gave him a quizzical expression. Her hair was matted and wet from her shower. It was hardly close to '_good'_ at the moment.

They continued to stare at each other uncomfortably.

"Did you sleep well?" she inquired. The woman looked generously concerned. Who wouldn't? With how he acted… Ulquiorra might as well have been sent to Soul Society headquarters for total reconditioning.

"Yes. I had a full night's rest."

"I'm glad to hear that."

Disconcerted, he shifted his feet. Again, he was experiencing something new: a loss of words. It was like the woman was shifting him into another _creature_. It wasn't that he had no topics to discuss, but rather he wanted to be careful in choosing his words.

"I wan—"

"You ca—"

They both spoke simultaneously and having interrupted each other, fell into another unwelcome silence.

"You first," Orihime said.

Ulquiorra nodded and cleared his throat. He decided that he should just get straight to the point, but when he parted his lips to speak, he felt a knot form in his throat. He was _nervous_. Realizing that he felt such a way only made the knife dig deeper into his chest. _Why_ was he feeling this way when it came to the woman? It was tiresome.

"I wanted to ask you," he continued, "If you would like to go to the upcoming Christmas Masquerade Ball with me."

"A Masquerade!" Orihime eyes lit up with enthusiasm. Her imagination was reeling with images and ideas, "I would love to go! Oh! But… I left my dress and mask at home…"

"Home?" Ulquiorra's brow furrowed and his voice was cold as he spoke, "That place is not your _home_ anymore, onna. Your body and soul are mine. You humans hope too easily. Such emotion will only bring you to your ruin."

"… you're right," she complied. Orihime smiled sadly and looked down at her lap. The way Ulquiorra worded things could sound so dreadful. And it was. But she really wished he wouldn't be so blunt.

"I have a variety of dresses you can choose from and, as for your mask, I will have Nel assist you in making one."

She looked at him again, a new fire rekindling in her eyes, "A new dress?" _Free?_ "Oh, but you need my dimensions to get it tailored, right?"

"Unnecessary. I know your… dimensions perfectly well."

Well, he did memorize every curve and inch of her body with his fingertips last night. Orihime cheeks blossomed in color.

Eventually, Ulquiorra set the tray of food down and mechanically shoved his gloved hands in his pockets. When his fingers bumped into something metal-like, he remembered his other purpose for greeting Orihime that morning.

Bringing the object out of his pocket, he stepped forward and displayed it to Orihime in his palm, "You forgot this."

"Ah! The bracelet! I totally forgot," she stuck her tongue out and bumped her hand on her temple childishly, "Wouldn't want other humans to know I'm here, right?"

"The spell has worn off. Before I had first given this to you, I applied a small amount of my spiritual pressure on it so it may conceal yours with mine," he paused, looking at her sternly, "Do you not want this anymore?"

The bracelet was simple and unattractive, but just when Ulquiorra had given her a chance to part with it, she suddenly felt attached to the accessory. It may no longer have a part of Ulquiorra within it, but in a different light, it could be seen as a gift from him, "No, I like it. I want to keep it."

She reached out to take it, but Ulquiorra took the initiative to sit down beside her on the bed. Orihime flinched and her cheeks colored considerably with wide, silver eyes at his close proximity and flushed even more when he delicately took her wrist and clasped the bracelet around it himself.

With her hair damp and her body fresh, Ulquiorra could smell her natural scent. The smell of flowers and sun. Her lips looked so moist… His hand brushed against hers and he felt a jolt course through him so quickly, he immediately stood up again, his heart hammering in his chest. The blood pumping viciously throughout his body was warm.

"Ah, t-thank you," she stuttered bashfully.

He only nodded.

'_Strange_,' Ulquiorra mused, '_I have touched the woman countless times and I don't recall ever having such a violent reaction.'_

Ulquiorra sat down next to her again, making Orihime wonder why he bothered standing up in the first place, but he remained silent. After a minute of doing nothing, but breathing and basking in each other's presence, Ulquiorra stood up again.

Idly, Orihime stroked the bracelet with a finger, still feeling the unwelcome pressure of Ulquiorra's eyes examining her. Suddenly, a thought occurred to her. _What happened to that key she found?_ She had placed it in her bra the night before, but Ulquiorra… removed…—

She gasped sharply and Ulquiorra gave her an inquisitive look. Orihime waved her hands fretfully around telling him that she only just remembered something.

She couldn't _ask_ him if he had seen it… He would definitely take it from her before she even had a chance to figure out where it came from! Perhaps she could ask Nel. The teal-haired girl was eager to help her solve the mystery of their curses.

After a minute of doing nothing, but breathing and basking in each other's presence, Ulquiorra stood up again and looked at her. '_What's going on with him?'_ Orihime thought. She was trying her hardest not to laugh at his weirdness.

"I will return in a few hours with your lunch and then I will escort you on your walk."

She nodded agreeably, her chest throbbing with excitement. It had been a few days since she walked around with Ulquiorra. Orihime was starting to look forward to his company. Ulquiorra may not talk much, but whenever he did, everything he said was interesting. He saw the world with such empty eyes; she always had fun informing him how _she_ saw things. Maybe Ulquiorra enjoyed hearing her thoughts too.

He walked to the door, his hands in his pockets as usual as he desperately tried to maintain his icy composure. Orihime stared after him, studying his shaky movements with curiosity. Suddenly, right before he exited the door, he turned on his heel and stared at Orihime with such intensity that she almost fell for the instinct to be afraid.

"Y-you will dine with me tonight," Ulquiorra lifted his chin up pompously as he finally found his courage to speak, "That is not a request." And before Orihime could take another breath he slammed the door loudly behind him.

On one side of the door, a young, auburn-haired girl was rolling around on her bed in a fit of giggles, laughing at Ulquiorra's strange behavior towards her and the relief from the awkwardness that left after him. And he even _stuttered_.

Though on the other, a pale Hollow ran his gloved hand through his hair in frustration and agony.

Unfortunately for Grimmjow, who decided upon that unlucky moment to walk from around the corner of the hallway, the blue-haired man addressed Ulquiorra during his flustered condition.

"Yo, Ulquiorra! Long time no see," Grimmjow was approaching him now, "Hey, you look a lot less pale than usual… Are you—"

Ulquiorra, not wanting to deal with him, punched him right in the chest with enough force to knock him back far across the end of the hallway.

"What the hell?!" Ulquiorra could hear him bellow from the distance, "WHY IS EVERYONE USING ME AS A PUNCHING BAG?!"

But attending to Grimmjow's tantrums was the last thing Ulquiorra wanted to deal with so he continued to trudge away with a certain wide, silver-eyed girl occupying his thoughts.

* * *

**Just going to address a few of the guest reviews out there:**

**No-one-u-know** – **Nel and Ulquiorra are both sick. Szayel explained a probable theory why.**

And to my Just a Bit Longer readers – It IS on temporary hiatus while I finish this fic up. The plot sucks major ass, but I plan to update it for you guys.

**Next chapter:**

"_Amongst the pile of unconscious bodies stood a lone figure. Nel neared it warily, her steps as light as her breaths. She could see him now. He was tall even with his back hunched over and his fists clenched at his sides; a pose ready for any other threatening encounter. But it was only Nel. The lean boy turned his gaze towards her and her breath hitched in her throat. Suddenly her world changed. It was just her and that amethyst-eyed boy – surrounded by the limp bodies of his enemies, their foreheads touching the ground as if bowing to him."_

**Preparing for the flashback all NnoiNel fans have been waiting for! The lucky letter is "M"!**

**Please leave a review on your way out! And I will tend to any questions~**


	13. Memory

****WARNING: I don't want to spoil it, but there is a scene here that some of you might be sensitive to. It isn't very detailed or anything and, in fact, you might even skip over it if you read too quickly.****

This chapter is NOT entirely NnoiNel.

****I know there are a few of you who might absolutely despise the side pairing I chose for this story, so feel free to skip this part if you wish. Although, I just want to say that it's not going to be "romantic". NnoiNel was never about the romance. At least in my eyes. It's a relationship about misunderstandings, pride, and despair. So even for you anti-NnoiNels, this might be an interesting read.**

**Now for the winners of Chapter 13's Chapter Guessing Game! Congrats to Gianna Sparrow, The Fujoshi, and Senbewbzakura for getting it right~ Two points for each of you!**  
**For the rest who didn't get the answer right, but reviewed anyway, you all have one point~ Chapter 14's letter will be easier. Thank you so much for the reviews and sorry for the long A/N!**

**Prepare yourselves for the worst! I changed this fic to Rated M and I am sure as hell going to stick to it!**

* * *

"Nnoitra, you have to listen! _Please_," she pleaded, her voice cracking as tears began to spill from her large eyes. She fumbled with his sleeves again, clinging on as she cried on helplessly and loudly.

"That isn't all, Nnoitra…" releasing her grip on him, she slumped down to her knees and dug her palms into the hollows of her eyes. Gingerly, she placed a hand down to her abdomen, and lowered her head while her tears refused to stop spilling.

"But that's not all of it. Read this… maybe your memories will come back to you just as it did for me."

…

_Have you ever felt drawn towards someone you could never understand?_

...

"Nnoi…tra Gilga?" Nelliel Tu Odelschwanck read the name aloud. It was written with blotted ink at the corner of every page that stacked high, but was tucked safely beneath her large bosom. It had to be about 200 pages. _Just how many months' worth of homework is this?_

At age 16, Nel was already set on the path of achieving the highest goals. President of the Student Council, daughter of the richest family in town, skilled in self-defense, talented in the visual and performing arts… Yes, she had it all in her hands.

Well, not literally.  
In her arms was the stack of homework assigned to the delinquent Nnoitra Gilga. Apparently the boy had been assigned to her class – which inevitably means under her 'care' – but he never showed up. Though, unfortunately, he was still her responsibility since she was the esteemed Class President. And so she had been tasked the mission of searching for this delinquent and making him do his homework. The teacher even gave her an opportunity for another Good Student Star if she ever succeeded in making him attend school.

The young, teal-haired girl sighed. How was she supposed to find this Nnoitra Gilga without any specific details?

'_He is very tall, slits for eyes, and this evil-looking grin. You can't miss him even if he were in the middle of a crowd!' _the teacher told Nel. She sighed again. What a vague description!

She kicked some pebbles to the side as she walked down the rugged street. The sun was hovering just above the horizon; about 2 hours until evening. She was well aware that gangs of rowdy kids liked to hang out at places like this and that wandering around in the middle of the street wasn't exactly the brightest thing to do late in the afternoon, but she wanted to get the task over with. The sooner she hands the papers to the guy, the sooner she could go home and read a book with a warm cup of tea.

But before Nel could bite her tongue for speaking too soon, she stumbled upon a strange scene obscuring the dimly lit path of a random street in Germany.

Amongst the pile of unconscious bodies stood a lone figure. Nel neared it warily, her steps as light as her breaths. She could see him now. He was tall even with his back hunched over and his fists clenched at his sides; a pose ready for any other threatening encounter. But it was only Nel. The lean boy turned his gaze towards her and her breath hitched in her throat. Suddenly her world changed. It was just her and that amethyst-eyed boy – surrounded by the limp bodies of his enemies, their foreheads touching the ground as if bowing to him.

Her teacher was right about being unable to miss him. This boy was unmistakably Nnoitra Gilga.

"Whatdya want, twerp?" he inquired with his nasty, nasally voice. Nel stood frozen in her step, her large, brown eyes quivering in fear. She was expecting a delinquent, not a mass murderer!

"I said what the fuck do you want, bitch?!" he kicked aside a groaning victim to open a pathway for him to walk through. The closer he approached her, the more intimidating his height became. He was so tall!

Nel couldn't find her voice. Was she even breathing?

At the corner of her eyes, she saw a flaccid body twitch behind Nnoitra and struggle to stand up. She could sense killing intent from the stranger, his eyes glowing red and staring straight at Nnoitra's back. The boy reached into his pocket and drew out a knife and lunged towards Nnoitra's unsuspecting form while he was distracted.

"Watch out!" Nel dropped the papers and pushed Nnoitra roughly to the side before the assaulter could sink the blade into his back. She twisted her body to avoid being stabbed and knocked the knife out of the wielder's hands. Then she planted her knuckles right between his eyes, knocking him flat on the ground and unconscious.

Nel turned to Nnoitra to check if he was okay, but instead met with the blunt force of his fist against her cheek. She fell on her butt with a surprised squeak and rubbed the area of her face that throbbed with pain.

"Hey! What was that for?! Is that how you thank someone for hel—"

"SHUT UP!"

Nel looked up at him with bewilderment. She had to tilt her head all the way back to peer into his eyes due to his abnormal height.

"I didn't need yer help! Now get outta here before I kill ya!" he threatened. His amethyst eyes were slanted into thin, menacing slits.

Nel helped herself up, still gawking at him in disbelief, "What the hell are you talking about?! That guy was about to mince you up! You would have gotten hurt if it wasn't for me!"

No one had ever defied her help. People had always relied on her; admiring her strength and charm, she was everyone's hero. So what the hell was up with _this_ guy?

"Tch!" he spat on the ground in disgust, "No _female_ is stronger than me. I could've taken him on! I've handled worse! Now stop breathin' my air and scram!"

"Urgh! You're so rude!" Nel shrilled at the top of her lungs. She hastily picked up the papers off the ground and shoved it onto his chest. He scowled at her threateningly, recoiling at her touch, "I just came here to give you your homework and you better do it, Mr. Gilga! Now I'm leaving!" she huffed.

Nnoitra tossed his homework away and snatched Nel up by the collar of her school uniform, lifting her up a few inches off the ground, "Are you fuckin' tellin' me what to do, bitch?!" he hissed. Spit flew at her face from all directions.

Repulsed, Nel pushed him away and found her balance on her feet again, "Relax! I'm just telling you what the teacher told me to!"

"Who do you think you are?!" he growled, "Fight me!"

"No," she replied haughtily, "And for your information, my name is Nelliel Tu Odelschwanck."

"I didn't ask you for your name! Now fight me, bitch!" Before Nel could refuse, Nnoitra swung a fist forward and nearly swiped at her cheek again, but this time Nel was prepared. She halted his punch by grasping his curled fingers in the palm of her hand.

"Actually, you asked me 'who I think I am' and I think I am Nel Tu Odelschwanck."

"Ha!" With a grunt, she whirled her free hand upwards, forming a fist, and dug her knuckles into the firm flesh of his abdomen. Nnoitra stumbled back, grunting as the air escaped his lungs. Unable to gain his composure in time, he slipped on his heel and fell backwards, his back hitting the dirty ground with an audible thump. Nnoitra struggled to get up, but fell down to his knee when he failed to do so. The blunt force of her punch had his insides recoiling in pain.

"I will not fight with the likes of you."

"And just what the fuck do you mean by that?!" Nnoitra spat.

"You're pitiful. Like an animal."

"…You bastard," Nnoitra narrowed his eyes at her, his voice dripping with poison.

Nel delicately picked up the soiled papers of his homework and stacked them before him on the ground, "My orders were to hand you these papers and to possibly convince you to attend school every now and then—" Nnoitra scoffed at this but Nel brushed him off, "I wasn't sent here to babysit a wailing child."

"I'll fucking kill y—" Nnoitra tried to stand again, but the sudden motion only made his bruised organs shoot pain through his veins in protest.

Nel began to walk away, leaving behind Nnoitra who continued to yell profanities her way.

Perhaps she shouldn't have left him there like that. Maybe she should have fought him after all and settled it right then and there. Or even better, maybe she should have refused the offer to seek him out. To start any sort of communication with him.

Because for the rest of her life, she would rarely be separated from him through good and bad times.

…

CRASH!

Nel's attention snapped to the broken window, the startled gasps of her classmates and quiet yelp from her teacher awakening her heightened senses. She sighed.

_Nnoitra_.

For the next few months after her first encounter with the delinquent, he had been harassing her. Often coming to her (_their)_ school and pestering her to fight him. Breaking her classroom windows to gain her attention, waiting for her outside the school's gates to attempt a surprise attack, assaulting her from behind…

'_We're not done yet!'_

'_Let's fight to the death!'_

'_You're just some scared bitch!'_

Though Nel was hyper aware of his killing intent and nimble in her actions, Nnoitra would somehow land a few blows. Sometimes she would come home or go to school with a new set of bruises or scrapes depending on Nnoitra's choice of weapon for that day. And yet she still refused to fight him, keeping her acts of defense to a minimal so as not to encourage him.

He even had the nerve to follow her home and ambush her – after gawking at her rich parents' home. She couldn't shake him off. Nel had gained so many bruises that they would just merge into one big, purple welt. Her peers began to inquire her in genuine concern, begging her to stop associating herself with "_that_" guy even though she explained to them that he was the one bugging her. She would wrap her fresh wounds in bandages and makeup so her parents wouldn't notice.

Not that they notice _her_ in the first place. Nel's parents didn't give a crap about her despite her elitist achievements. She cooked for herself, ate dinner alone… Did she even have a family? Probably the only reason why they haven't kicked her out is because they can afford her like one could adopt a dog.

It didn't matter to her anyway.

Not her family. Not her classmates or teachers.

Not even Nnoitra could stop her. She even quickly turned his routine of scaring and beating her into a fun game of eternal tag.

She was above them all.

One day, during Nnoitra and Nel's daily session of eternal tag, a rival gang of rowdy delinquents crept upon them. Nnoitra was about to land another punch on Nel's shoulder when their leader called out his name.

"Eh?!" Nnoitra responded, upset that his umpteenth chance for revenge was interrupted.

"Prepare yourself, Nnoitra Gilga! For hurting my nakama!"

Nel didn't even have to question him. She figured Nnoitra got himself involved in fights just for the hell of it. That was his personality. And despite the frustration he had towards Nel, she knew that Nnoitra was also in it for the fun of pushing her around. She was his match after all.

_No_, she corrected herself, _I could beat him in any fight if I chose to._

And Nnoitra knew that. He knew Nel was holding him back and it angered him that a girl could demean him so much.

The fight between Nnoitra and the rival gang commenced with a few masculine shouts and raising of crowbars and knives as the initiation. It was obvious that Nnoitra was outnumbered – once against ten, so naturally Nel was dragged into the business against her will. The enemy must have thought they were acquaintances.

Nel heard Nnoitra grunt behind her as a fist plowed right into his temple, knocking him straight to the ground. His head wound immediately began to bleed. The teal-haired girl ran to stand between him and his foe, her arms raised protectively to shield him. Nnoitra's eyes widened in horror.

Swiftly and elegantly, Nel took care of the guy who dealt the blow and then took care of the rest before Nnoitra could help himself off the ground.

The violet-eyed boy grunted as he sat on top of the fallen body of the enemy gang's leader, glaring sinisterly at Nel. They were both covered in scratches and sore from the adrenaline rush, but they still had enough energy to spare for their staring match.

"I don't need your help," he scowled.

"Don't flatter yourself, Nnoitra. I didn't help you because I wanted to. I was just fending them off for myself."

"Tch. Don't give me that. I see that look in your eyes."

"W-what look?! I-I don't like you like that!" Nel blushed furiously.

"What the fuck are you talking about? It's obvious you're looking down on me!" he yelled.

"Oh…" Nel cleared her throat, "I wasn't looking down on you." At least not _then_.

"Don't give me that. Whenever someone takes pity on me it's like tramplin' on old wounds. I don't need sympathy. No matter who they are, strong, weak or even a baby, I can take them down in one swing!"

Nel frowned. Nnoitra was always like this; boasting about his fights and his scars, thirsty for more. It's all he ever lived for. All he dreamed for was a good fight.

"Why do you have to fight? It's pointless! Hurting others for no good reason! For fun? For the thrill of it? I just don't understand! You could get killed and only God knows how many people _you've_ killed. For _fun._ Even though you're already 16 years old, you're still just a child! If you didn't provoke them in the first place, you wouldn't be caught up in this. You need to quit this suicidal behavior!"

"Huh! Well if that's what you think then fight me and get it over with! Fight me to the death! Give me the best fight of my life!"

"Why is it so hard for you to understand?! Use your brain!" Nel screeched, gripping her hair in frustration. Her face felt as hot as her temper.

She left him that day without another word, his empty words searing her skin like new battle scars. She knew she would see him the next day, but just how long can she keep up with his antics before she gets herself into a deeper mess?

'_Oh!_' a brilliant idea had just occurred to Nel. She could watch over _him_. And maybe if she's lucky enough, she could annoy him so much that he would leave her alone. She won't fight him of course, just poke him or something and completely avoid his taunts. Regret was laced with her plan, but it didn't matter anymore.

Her fate was tied with his.

…

It turns out that Nel had her work cut out for her. Nnoitra began attending class the next day even though his intentions were to bug the living hell out of her. He never missed an opportunity to take a swing at her and it didn't help that no one stopped him. They were too scared. He was an unstoppable force and it seemed Nel was the only one that could bark back at him without any hint of fear.

Eventually they began to play this game of tug-o-war with each other's mind. Like oil and water, they never mixed, but they were side by side. Their constant bickering continued from the classroom and lasted throughout the duration of walking home, ending whenever Nnoitra dropped her off at her place.

From then on, it felt strange to be away from him. It was like her world was too quiet, bland, and predictable. Whenever he wasn't around, her senses were always at peak, waiting for that moment when he would attack. Even when she would be studying in her room, she was prepared for the moment when he would come crashing through her window. Again.

It was inevitable that her thoughts would soon center around him. When he was gone, she would think about him – albeit negatively – and when he was with her, all she could think about was how she could never understand him and wished he would just shut up and accept that she's better.

"Nelliel, you know for sure that I don't like ya so why do you still follow me?" he asked her at one point during their after school walk.

She had grown accustomed to his presence. More likely attached. Nel turned her head to the side and studied him with her large, brown eyes. She was silent as she mused over his question. After all, it was a question she had been asking herself.

Nel sort of liked his inky black hair, the way it curled upwards at the ends right above his shoulders… and his squinty, violet eyes. How did she even know they were purple with such tiny irises? Maybe she figured it out unconsciously after locking eyes with him over and over as they fought and planted bruised knuckles on each other's eyelids.

She couldn't understand his way of thinking. Why did he have to hurt others to feel above them? If he actually paid attention in school and worked hard, he could _be _above them, but he chose not to. So why couldn't he just accept that she was stronger, faster, smarter, _better_ than him? It was so obvious that she was and it was driving her crazy.

So why is it that at that moment, she was gazing into those eyes with the backs of their hands occasionally brushing each other as they walked together? Suddenly the answer was obvious:

"You're weak."

…

That same night Nnoitra couldn't sleep. Her words were haunting him. Just thinking about what she said made his temperature rise in anger. He ran his skinny fingers through his coarse, black hair, and wiped the sweat off his forehead.

Just who was she to him? Why did he even bother?

She was strong in every angle. And beautiful. Too good for him. And he wanted to destroy her.

It bothered him that she was better than him. That she fought for him and pitied him. It was humiliating. What was he doing? Lately he hadn't been trying his best to wipe that haughty smile from her pretty, little face. In fact, she had been smiling more lately.

'_What the fuck is wrong with me?!_' he screamed silently.

He was the one tagging Nel. He was the one pestering her, but he still felt like Nel was in the way. But who was stopping him? Oh, that's right.

_His pride_.

Her aquamarine hair glistening in the sun, her droopy eyes, and girlish charm… She was hypnotizing. Nnoitra had to get rid of her before she influenced him any more than she already had. The girl had him wrapped around her finger; she had the ability to call out his feral side and tame him at the same time. Just what the hell is he letting himself get into?

Nnoitra made a promise to himself. He would get rid of her and once again he would be free to fight whoever he wanted without any nagging. Without any restraints.

He would rise to the top to stand upon the fallen bodies of weaklings.

Right where he belonged.

Which wasn't by Nelliel's side.

…

Their faces were so close now; their flared nostrils whistling from labored breathing, but their glare steady and heated. Nel staggered back, clutching her broken arm as Nnoitra did the same.

This battle was different. Nnoitra was no longer holding himself back and had even gone through unfair means of trying to _kill_ her. Nel tried her best to defend herself, but his offense was too much. In the end, she was suffering from a few broken ribs, a nose bleed, and a broken arm, but it was nothing she can't handle. After so many encounters with Nnoitra, her body had toughened up.

They remained in this silent stand off for a while until Nel decided to turn her back to him and walk away.

She didn't lose. She was able to throw Nnoitra to the ground a handful of times whereas he could not even move her from where she stood, but she was tired of dealing with him.

"I thought I said this was a duel to the death… FINISH IT!"

Nel paused in her step and turned her head back to reply, "You mean deliver the last blow?"

"Obviously—"

"I refuse. You have no purpose to fight me to the death."

"WELL I HAVE ONE! YOU PISS THE FUCK OUTTA ME!"

"That is not a purpose. That is instinct. I cannot acknowledge you as a human being. You are a _beast_ without reason and I do not feel like burdening myself as to think we are equals."

And before Nel realized how much saying that would anger Nnoitra, their fists clashed once again the duel resumed a while longer.

In the end, they both lay on their sides in a rumpled mess, exhausted and sore from what seemed to be an endless match. A mixture of dirt and sweat caked their pale skin and blood was smeared from their lips down to their necks. Nnoitra turned to rest his back on the ground and tilted his head towards Nel who was already watching him from her position.

"Y'know… you have a nice ass."

Nel's eyes grew wide, completely taken aback by his words and then giggled lightly.

She scooted closer to him and hovered over his battered body, her lips slightly brushing against his. Nnoitra was too stunned to move, his pupils dilating as she blocked out their only source of light that the moon had provided.

"You're such an idiot."

When she pressed her lips against his, she realized that she too was as beastly as Nnoitra.

Feral, instinctual, confused…

With the taste of metallic blood at the tips of their tongues, their passion escalated. Her fingers weaved through his midnight-black hair as their tongues battled as fervently as their fists did just moments ago. Nnoitra gripped her torn shirt at the hem, as if hanging onto whatever bit of sanity he had left. He ripped the flimsy cloth off and his fingers danced on her bare skin, his breath heady as his heart pounded underneath his hard chest.

They were in the middle of a public street at night, but it didn't matter to those two. Once they started, they couldn't stop or slow down.

So things… happened.

…

Word spread and Nnoitra and Nel's relationship quickly became the hottest gossip of the town. A queen and a delinquent. Who saw it coming?

They were never public with their intimacy though, unless their usual bickering Nel or Nnoitra admitted their relationship to be official, but it was clear that something was happening between them. Though they would occasionally brawl, it was more playful than threatening and the air surrounding those two was no longer ominous.

After a year or so of being together, Nel was greeted in the morning by the hammering urge to gag into the toilet. Nnoitra – who had been sleeping beside her in her bed, stark naked and all – sat up groggily and slightly peeved that he had been woken up by the sound of her throwing up. Unable to go back to sleep due to his hot temper rather than concern for the girl, he sat upright for an hour until Nel walked out of the bathroom.

"What the hell's goin' on?" he grumbled as she crawled back into bed and curled her body around his.

Nel sighed and plainly said, "I think I'm pregnant."

"You're WHAT?!" Nnoitra nearly leapt out of the bed, but Nel had anchored him down with her weight. He continued to protest, but as usual, Nel overpowered him. Finally he calmed down and his incoherent babbling diminished in volume.

Later, Nel explained to him that they had nothing to worry about. Her parents would pretty much pay her cash to keep her mouth shut in a desperate attempt to maintain their reputation. She might be kicked out of school, but for Nel, it would be easier for her to study by herself and then apply for college later on so it was no big deal to her.

"Eh…," Nnoitra scratched the back of his head, his eyebrows knotted and his mouth set in his usual frown, "Have you, uh, considered an—"

"—abortion?" Nel gave him an incredulous look and then turned away, smiling sadly, "If you don't want to take responsibility, I understand. You can just leave," she paused and rested her palm on her flat abdomen.

"Maybe this is God's punishment… for associating with you I mean," she giggled, "I want to protect this life. And maybe you could think about it too? It's like a retribution for all of those young lives you stole," she reached for Nnoitra's hand and brought it to rest on her stomach. He hesitated for a moment, but then gave in.

'_Retribution_…?' he thought, '_Why would I give two shits about somethin' like that_?'

Nonetheless, he never left her side.

About five months into her pregnancy, Nel was a beaming mother-to-be next to her forever-scowling boyfriend. She was kicked out of school immediately when her classmates started pointing out the suspicious bump hiding beneath her uniform, but she was prepared. Likewise, Nnoitra dropped out of school because 'class was too quiet' and it peeved him.

Ever since the big news, Nnoitra had not even laid a hand on her, but Nel didn't mind. She was far too independent to think anything of it. He was probably just paranoid that he would hurt her or their child.

But she couldn't help and wonder if she was being a burden to him. He _did_ hate her, but the line between love and hate was so thin. Who would have thought that a kiss would thrust their relationship into the more affectionate side?

"Well! It doesn't matter anymore," Nel sang aloud, both of her hands settled happily atop the hill that was her pregnant belly.

Nnoitra shot her a look as if she were crazy.

She probably was.

But little did she know that this period of peace would be short-lived.

…

Nel didn't see it coming. They were walking down the street where they had first met for the sake of nostalgia when they were assaulted.

She gasped loudly as she watched Nnoitra fall to the ground next to her, blood seeping out of the back of his head. She turned to face the perpetrator, but before she could get a good look at him, she also took a hit from the iron bar in the head, immediately knocking her out.

Upon awakening, her eyes shot open, only to be met with complete darkness. She whined for Nnoitra, but her voice was muffled by the cloth gag that occupied her mouth. Her hands were tied behind her back and her head wound throbbed painfully.

Nel panicked.

She screeched and kicked at the empty air, clawing at her restraints, and after shuffling around a bit, she felt a form next to her. She nudged the structure again and relief immediately flooded into her when she heard Nnoitra's familiar grunt. But fear shot through her again as she realized that his inability to talk also meant that he was in the same situation as her.

She began to cry.

_Nnoitra… help… what's happening?! Help…! Someone…!_

Nel scooted closer to what she whole-heartedly believed was the man she loved and leaned her blinded head on his figure. She felt something slick and cold touch her cheek, but she wasn't sure what she was touching. Was he scared? Was he crying? Or is that blood…?

"Heh. Look at these two. _Disgusting_."

Nel swiveled her head towards the source of the voice and began to scream. _Let us go! Let us go! My baby…!_

"SHUT UP!"

Nel felt the blunt force of a shoe on her round abdomen and was hurled away from Nnoitra. Her face scraped against the hard pavement as her body slid uselessly away from her only comfort. Despite being blindfolded, Nel was seeing stars and her headache increased in magnitude. Vomit pooled in her mouth due to the nausea and her stomach pulsed in protest.

_The baby…!_

Nnoitra yelled into his gag in concern as he felt Nel's warm body being torn from him. The offender wrenched his blindfold off of his eyes. He quickly surveyed the area and noted they were in an abandoned warehouse filled with his enemies. No one was going to hear their screams for help. The offender gripped his head and forced him to look at Nel. His violet eyes widened in alarm as he watched a group of boys surround her with lust-filled eyes.

"Bastard. Lettin' a girl get the best o' ya. Now you've gone all soft, _Nnoitra Gilga_. 'Cause you've been _oh-so-_friendly with us, I'mma return the favor 'n show ya how ya _really_ take care of feisty girl like her!" Nnoitra was kicked back down on the ground and held down by the speaker's foot from getting back up.

He screamed and yelled and thrashed around hopelessly as he watched as they ripped Nel's clothes off and tossed them to the side to expose her bare body. She was quiet now; her blindfold and gag soaked with her tears and stifled whimpering.

"This is what ya get for makin' a fool outta us!"

Nnoitra had never felt so desperate. So _afraid_.

He flailed underneath the gang leader's foot, the sound of his cackled laughter filling his head and intensifying his distress. Nnoitra cried out for Nel, watching as they positioned themselves around her and violated her. He couldn't hold back the prickling sensation at the corner of his eyes and the tip of his nose and tears freely flooded down his cheeks as he watched Nel's purity being stolen from her. The sounds of her muted pleas and slapping of bare skin against skin reverberated into his head.

He shut his eyes closed to block out the vulgar scene. Their perpetrator clicked his tongue and bent forward to force Nnoitra's eyes to open again. His eyes trembled as he watched against his will, his strength quickly leaving him and his vision blurry from crying.

"NNOITRAAAAAAAAA!" her gag had slipped off and she was now wailing loudly for him. Nnoitra trembled miserably in his spot, hoping that his muffled replies would soothe her, but he knew better.

After a few more minutes of the torture, it was finally over and the couple was reduced tosilently crying. Their eyes had never left each other's. Nel had never felt so much comfort from those amethyst pools than ever before and she couldn't help, but laugh inside. She quickly mouthed reassurance to him as the same group of boys towered over her.

_It was over_. _Their child would be okay. It's going to be okay. It'll all be over soon._

"Nnoitra!" she called out to him, snapping his mind back into reality, "I love you, okay?" she gave him her biggest smile, her eyes crinkling as she confessed to him and choked back a sob, "I love you. Don't forget that!"

At this point, Nnoitra stopped struggling. He was tired.

So when they brought a thick iron bar down on her head with a loud CRACK, spitting her skull open, he made no sound. His eyes never left hers as he watched her fall to ground, her face slowly being immersed in a pool of her own blood. The gang of delinquents laughed at the tragic duo as if they were killing ants with a magnifying glass.

Nnoitra looked sadly on, watching as the life faded away from those brilliant, ochre eyes.

"…Nnoi…tra…"

And she was gone.

**Despair**.

Nnoitra didn't feel the dull pounding of their feet and fists against his vulnerable head and body. He didn't even see an iron bar coming to sink through the soft tissue of his left eye, gouging the delicate, bloody organ out.

**Despair.**

With his right eye, he held the image of Nel's lifeless form in his mind.

_See ya… Nelliel_.

* * *

Nnoitra closed the yearbook, his right eye tired with a dark circle beneath it. He regretted letting his curiosity get to him. His chest felt like it was collapsing in on itself; the weight of the curse tripled after the past had been revealed to him. He delicately pressed his trembling fingers to the mask that stretched across his face and covered his left eye.

Nel stared at him with sad eyes. Nnoitra wasn't one to express his despair – at least not in front of her. So she didn't bother placing a consoling hand on his shoulder or offering a word or two in kindness. Instead, she walked out of the room without as much as a glance at his unmoving form.

He was mourning the death of his unborn child after all.

_Their _child.

…

"You called, your majesty?" Nel said as she entered his room, but upon seeing him she froze in astonishment, "Wah— What are you doing? Why are you cleaning?!"

Ulquiorra set down a chair and scooted it underneath the dining table before answering her.

"The girl is coming for dinner… for business," he added the last part rather hastily as if making an excuse up the last second. He quickly stepped across the room, picked up a broom and dustpan, and began to sweep the floor.

Nel hummed bemusedly at his efforts. The room was nearly spotless and it was actually _lit_. She rarely visited his room, but if she could recall correctly, the room was a mess. A broken mattress, tattered curtains, and if there were any furniture, it was reduced to a rubble or ripped apart. And she swore that the chandelier hanging above their heads that moment was lying in a shattered pile in the corner of his room. Did he buy a new one?

"I need you to help the girl make a mask for the ball and tend to whatever she needs. I have an assortment of dresses spread out in Room 9 and I am sure she will be asking you for advice and assistance in helping her try it on."

"You… really do love her, don't you Ulquiorra," she stated rather than asked.

Ulquiorra flinched almost unnoticeably, but Nel didn't fail to catch the subtle movement. She cocked an eyebrow in interest.

"You're supposed to say '_how ridiculous'_!" she mocked in his tone.

"What would you know about 'love'?" he sneered, mocking her in return.

She gave him a weak smile, "The line between love and hate is very thin, Ulquiorra, but believe me when I say I have had a taste of both sides."

Nel couldn't believe what she was witnessing. Ulquiorra Cifer, the Hollow of emptiness, wasn't denying his feelings for a human girl? It was all fun and games to Nel and the other members of his fraccion; poking and prodding him about his puppy love towards the young girl, but it was getting serious now. She could see that.

"Ulquiorra…" she began warily, "You do remember that Orihime-chan is a _human_ and you are what those humans would call _monsters_, right? Orihime-chan won't live forever. She will die before you whether it be by the hands of your enemies or naturally. In fact, you could even accidently kill her if you make any sudden movements! And you would be stealing her chance to experience a normal, human li—"

"Do you think I have not given any thought about it?" Ulquiorra was looking at her now, irritation etched in his usually melancholic expression.

"S-still…" Nel frowned. Suddenly an idea came to her and her face lit up, "Why don't you make her a Hollow with the Hougyoku?"

He _could_ do it. With the Hougyoku, killing her was hardly necessary for hollowfication. But… _he_ couldn't. Not to someone like Orihime whose silver eyes were bright with youth and a smile that radiated warmth. She was the essence of sunlight to him. The part of her that _lived_ was the part he had grown attached to. So when he turned to Nel, he felt no hesitation when he spoke. He felt nothing except for the soft thumping of his heart in his chest.

"I admire her," he replied coldly, "too much to commit such a crime."

* * *

**Like it? Hate it? Cried? Laughed? I honestly would love to know. I've never written such an angsty story before.  
A preview of the next chapter:**

_Szayel's grin stretched from ear to ear as he peered up at the suspended form in the liquid-filled glass tube. Orihime eyed the scientist curiously, the hairs on the back of her neck standing up as she watched his yellow eyes glisten with something similar to mischievousness. At first, Orihime thought he was shaking in fear, but then a noise emitted from his throat and escalated into maniacal laughter._

Next letter is… **S**!  
**What could the title be…? It's a noun! Good luck~**


	14. The Scientist

**Sorry for the month-long wait! To make up for it, this chapter is pretty long. A staggering 10,600 words!**  
**And a juicy UlquiHime moment yes?**

**For the Chapter Guessing Game -**

**Congrats to "Guest" (although I have no idea how to reward you with such an anonymous name if you win) and The Fujoshi! I'm quite surprised at the amount of "Sadist" guessings (although Szayel IS a sadist), but I thought I made it pretty clear with the preview last chapter and I said it was going to be "really easy". oops. Next chapter should be even easier then~Everyone who reviewed automatically has one more point added.  
**

**You guys have no idea how delighted I am to hear that you enjoyed last chapter!**

**Disclaimer - I do not own "The Scientist" by Coldplay or Bleach.  
And thank you to my wonder beta, Natalie (ulquiorralovesorihime). You have no idea how much I depend and adore you!**

* * *

...

It was Christmas Eve.

The day didn't mean much to Orihime; she had always spent the eve and Christmas day alone. Not just Christmas, but for every holiday actually. Tatsuki would come over and cook for her, spend a few hours with her, maybe watch a movie, but the nights… the nights she spent alone. During the day, she would pray for her deceased brother and the happiness of others at the shrine.

Everyone closest to her had a family of some sort to spend the day with. If it wasn't out of sheer love, it was a priority. An obligation. Even Uryuu, who has a rough relationship with his father, spent time with him. That was family.

But here she was, walking with a certain green-haired beauty, chatting about the Christmas Masquerade Ball being hosted at Las Noches the next day. Everything around her seemed brighter, twinkling with Christmas season and her heart fluttered lightly within her chest. Maybe because she knew she wouldn't be alone this year.

When Orihime asked Nel if she could go to the library to pick something up, she was surprised that the aqua-haired girl didn't question her strange request. As they walked together to the well-known room, Orihime would take a quick glance at her in concern. Her brow was knitted and her eyes stressed, her lips forming a tight line… The auburn-haired girl was on the brink of wondering if she were in pain, but Nel's steady expression kept her at bay.

To Orihime's convenience, Nel stood idle at a corner of the library as she searched the floor for a certain key.

The sunlight wafted through the glass ceiling gently, dancing quietly on the surfaces and casting halos on their brightly colored hair. Thanks to the Sun, Orihime was quick to notice the metal luster of the key not far from where she and Ulquiorra had spent the night.

'_Thank goodness Ulquiorra never noticed it_,' she thought. Knowing his observant ways, it seemed out of his character to skip such a small detail, but then again, he was _entirely_ out of character last night.

Bending down to pick it up, she couldn't help but notice how disheveled the carpet was around that area and the memories of the previous night came flooding through her once again. With a faint, pink blush, the patted the carpet down to its usual uniformity and sighed to herself.

'_What am I going to do about this_…' Orihime still had no idea.

She was falling in love with Ulquiorra.

It was 'love' right? Somehow it felt so different from the love she quietly harbored for Ichigo. Was it because Ulquiorra returned her affection? Although, in different, subtle ways of course. His tender, dark lips and vivid, sultry eyes framed with raven-black hair… Ulquiorra had given her a beautiful place to live along with companions (though they were monsters in disguise, Nel became a precious friend to her); he had given her strength and hope that she, too, could make a difference with her mere human will. And this bracelet clasped around her thin wrist…

If only he weren't the _bad _guy.

"Are you ready, Orihime-chan?" Nel called from across the room.

"Oh yes!" she chirped and quickly stood after snatching the key up and shoving it down the front pocket of her jeans, her bracelet reflecting the light as it dangled freely around her wrist.

…

Nel took her to a large, unoccupied guest room and led her to a set of large, ceiling-high doors at the corner of the room.

"Ta da!" Nel spread her arms out to the side as she unsealed the enormous closet with an equally big smile on her face. Inside the closet itself was a room as large as the one she was assigned to sleep in, except every inch of the three walls were lined with gowns and sorted in a rainbow spectrum, "Ulquiorra bought all of these just for _you_ so they should fit well. Choose wisely!"

"Whoaaaa!" Orihime's eyes twinkled with stars and excitement, "Ah! But I just agreed to go to the ball with him last night. How did he…?"

Nel giggled playfully, "He had these prepared for you as soon as you began living here... Oh! This is pretty," she said as she eyed a crimson-red dress.

The auburn-haired girl gaped at her incredulously. Ulquiorra had thought this far for her? Suddenly, she felt really spoiled. Like a true princess.

Wait. So did that mean, he knew her size long before last night…? Orihime's face glowed red-hot.

To distract herself, she began to browse through the assortment. Her fingers brushed against fabric as smooth and thin as silk to rough satin. She made a grimace whenever she saw the perfect dress… lined with chiffon – a fabric she absolutely despised – but was rather impressed with Ulquiorra's taste in dresses. Not to the point where she should worry about his sexual orientation, of course.

It amazed her how there could be so many dresses and she would still have difficulty in choosing one.

"Ooh! I really, really like this one!" Nel squealed aloud as she gently took the dress off its hanger. She turned to Orihime and showed it to her, "What do you think?"

"It's so pretty!" Orihime cooed.

"Too bad Ulquiorra probably wouldn't let me rent one," she tsk'd in disappointment.

"I'm sure Ulquiorra would let you borrow one if I say it's okay," Orihime said without reluctance. She blushed as soon as she realized how intimate their relationship sounded.

Nel laughed, "You got that right! Ulquiorra wouldn't deny anything for you. Don't worry, Hime-chan. I'm chubbier than you anyhoo! I probably can't fit into these tiny things," she said jokingly, patting her rear for emphasis. Nel's body _was_ more mature than hers in some ways in contrast to her personality.

"Aww, Nel-san, don't say that! You just have a more mature body than me," she smiled.

"Go and pick a dress. We still have to make your mask… Oh that reminds me."

"Hmm?"

"Szayel wants to see you today," her lips formed a frown, "But I don't trust you to be alone with him in his room very much."

"Why?" Orihime cocked her head to the side innocently.

"He's a scientist."

"Oh." Orihime pretended to know what that meant to Nel.

"You don't have to go if you don't want to… I can't think of any reason why he would want to see you," she fretted. _He had experimented on enough humans already_…

"I'll be fine, Nel-san," Orihime reassured her, "He seems like a pretty funny guy from the times we've interacted." With Orihime's optimistic attitude, there was no way Nel could persuade her not to go.

"Well alright…" she gave in hesitantly. They went back to examining the racks of gowns, asking each other for advice and giving suggestions when a likeable candidate was found.

Something brilliant was seen at the corner of Orihime's eye and she searched for it for a while until she came upon it. It was a beautiful, strapless amethyst dress lined with an intricate, black lace designed with roses. The upper-half was sewn to look like a corset and meant to push up her plump breasts. The silk garment would hug her curves tightly until her thighs and then flow delicately to the ground like water. Mysterious, elegant, and dark… it was reminded her of the night. It was…

"Perfect…" she whispered.

Nel hummed in agreement and then ushered her out of the room with dress in hand before Orihime could change her mind.

"W-wha…," Orihime began to protest. Nel took the dress from her.

"I'll hang this in your closet. Quickly go to Szayel's room and get whatever he wants from you over with," she instructed, "We still have to make our masks, but I have to get an employee to fetch the supplies. So when you're finished, just head straight to my room, okay? His room is in the next hallway, second door to your left."

"Um, okay!" Nel left and was already at a good distance from her when she yelled back,

"_And don_'_t _touch anything in his room, Orihime-chan! Just _don_'_t_!" and she rushed off to find a worker leaving a curious, human girl behind.

_What could be so bad about a scientist?_

…

"Ah… Szayel-san?" Orihime knocked on his door again. Not a sound was heard beyond the barrier, "Szayel-san!" she called, "It's me, Orihime! Did you call?" Nothing.

_Maybe he's taking a dump or something…?_

Nonetheless, Orihime reached for the knob and turned it, slightly taken aback when the unlocked door swung freely open for her to pass through. '_Well I guess I could just wait for him inside_,' she decided.

"Excuse me…," she whispered as she trespassed into the empty room and made herself comfortable on the sofa.

His room was definitely not what she was expecting from a busy scientist. It was clean and orderly – as bare as an unrented guest room in Las Noches. Like every room in the hotel, the windows were tall and bordered with velvet curtains and there was no sound of a ticking clock, though the bed was smaller than hers and did not have a canopy hanging protectively over it. Another difference between her room and this one was that the room was completely dark. The blinds were shut, the curtains obscuring any stream of light that dared to pass through.

For a moment, she wondered if she had walked into the wrong room, but her thoughts were interrupted when she realized there was something odd about the furthest window to the right. Orihime couldn't quite place what it was so she quickly excused it as overanalyzing her environment.

'_I wonder what the view from Szayel-san's room looks like,_' she pondered to herself. His room was located near the back of Las Noches whereas hers overlooked the front courtyard. '_Maybe I could see the garden from here… Szayel-san wouldn't mind me looking out the window at least.'_

The young girl picked the window she had felt a strange omen from, slightly pushed the curtains aside, and drew open the blinds. The room did overlook the backyard, but – to her disappointment – a rather bland corner of the garden. Since she had nothing else to do, she decided to gaze out the window longer, but her plans were disrupted by the sharp glare of metal passing through her vision. She looked to the side for the source and was surprised to see a tiny, brass-lined keyhole.

The size of the keyholes used to secure a diary.

It would have been indistinguishable from only a few feet away. The auburn-haired girl felt an ominous pressure resonating from the keyhole nipping at the corner of her mind.

Her thoughts blank, she sat back down on the sofa. Orihime cleared her throat and shuffled around in her seat, chewing on her bottom lip as she hummed to distract herself. _'I won't be nosy. I won't go snooping around. Not this time! And Szayel-san is bound to be here any time now…'_

A few more quiet moments passed and she couldn't hold herself back any longer.

'_Well the sooner I try the sooner I can get it over with. It probably doesn't fit anyway,' _she thought. Orihime walked to the door and craned her neck to peek into the hallway, left and right. Not a sign of a living thing!

_Well, Hollows in this case._

Las Noches was an eerily quiet hotel, quiet enough that footsteps could be heard treading down the hallway from within a room. Ironically, Las Noches wasn't a wholly empty building either. There were the employees and occupants constantly scurrying around random parts of the estate, but the odds were in her favor it seemed.

'_Yosh_!'she silently cheered to herself, as she tiptoed her way back to the window.

Her heart began to pound excitedly in her chest; questions rising and swimming uselessly in her mind. _What is a keyhole doing in a place like this? Hidden? Could this be…_

Orihime eagerly fished the key she had just retrieved that morning out of her pocket and began to fiddle with the keyhole like a child playing with a new toy. She nearly screamed in delight when she heard the familiar click of a lock being undone, but quickly caught herself before the sound escaped from her lips.

So she unlocked whatever the small keyhole was for… now what?

Not a crease of a doorframe could be seen in the open space between the window and the corner of the room, not a hint hidden behind an even coat of wall paint. It literally looked like a keyhole… for the window? What was its purpose?

Orihime stood there in a daze, completely confused. She finally discovered where the key had belonged, but she felt like it was too soon to be disappointed in its uselessness.

Sighing, she removed the key from the lock, but was suddenly overwhelmed with a sharp, but short-lived jolt of electricity run through her body. She yelped and jumped back on instinct, blinking in confusion.

'_Ow… I hate static shock… I feel weak for some reason,' _she mused, her head reeling with dizziness.

Suddenly, she heard a low groaning sound crescendo around her and she spun around to face the noise. She gasped aloud when a pitch black hole – or rather mouth-looking shape – form in thin air before her, the noise was digital-like, ripping the empty space apart to reveal another dimension. She began to dance around in panic, wondering if she had broken something and with the sound escalating in volume, someone was bound to hear.

'_W-what _is _this?!' _she cried helplessly in her mind.

Finally, the noise stopped, but the portal remained. With her heart hammering in her chest, she peeked into the empty space only to drown her vision in a cloak of black. She felt a foreboding aura as she leaned into it, like it was sucking her in to occupy that black space. Leaning back, she continued to stare wide-eyed into it, not knowing what to do or how to close it back up.

Guardedly, she lifted a trembling hand and extended it through the hole, but to her relief, nothing happened.

'_Well, this obviously goes somewhere… but what if it's somewhere dark and scary? What if I'll be trapped inside? Whatever this thing is!'_

"Wow! Look what you did now! Boy, are you going to be _in_ for it!"

Orihime whipped her head around, nearly smacking her nose into Loly's contorted face.

"L-loly-san!" she started. She didn't even realize she had walked in and crept up so close behind her.

"Ha!" Without another word, Loly shoved Orihime through the gaping hole.

"AAAAAHHHhhhhh!" Orihime screamed at the top of her lungs as the ground slipped from beneath her feet and she was immediately enveloped in the darkness.

"Have fun in Limbo, skank!" were the last words that fell in after her, reverberating around her loudly only to be swallowed up into the nothingness.

Her bright, orange-brown hair whipped around wildly as she fell endlessly into the pit. She thought of screaming for help, calling for someone, _anyone_, but she knew no one would hear her. She couldn't see anything except her hands outstretched above her, grasping for her last string of salvation, but unable to obtain it.

Was this it? Is this what they called curiosity killing the cat?

_Oh, the irony. Silly, silly 'Hime… Now I will die here…_

_Falling for eternity._

Orihime shut her eyes and curled her hands into a fist.

_Falling_  
_Falling_  
_Falling_

Sinking forever into the limitless nothing, she continued to reflect on herself.

She was so weak. She couldn't fight beside her friends; she couldn't save Nel and Ulquiorra… She was useless. No one could depend on her. Ulquiorra was wrong. There was nothing special about her. He expected too much and now she had failed them all.

_I'm so sorry Ulquiorra… I couldn't save you._

She concentrated her will into a single memory, the memory that had given her happiness and freed her from sadness.

Ulquiorra with his hand stretched out to her, asking her for a dance. At that moment, it seemed like those emerald green eyes were made just for her; to see only her and look only at her. Even if she wasn't special or strong or rich or smart like Rukia, Ulquiorra made her feel like she was.

_Ulquiorra_…

Suddenly, a bright explosion of light erupted before her closed eyelids, changing the void of her vision ablaze. Her momentum was decreasing at an exponential rate, but before she could snap her eyes open in shock, her back met with something solid. Steadily, her pupils adjusted to the newfound brightness and she looked down at what she was sitting on.

What carried her now seemed to be a bridge purely made of white light, stretching as far as she could see into the oblivion.

"Do you think she can see us now?" she heard a soft, shy voice whisper.

"How am I supposed to know?! I'm not her eyes!" an angry, masculine response.

"She used a bit of reiatsu to make this bridge so maybe she can see us."

"Orihime-sama…?" another girl it seemed.

The girl swiveled her head round and about, searching for the people she was hearing, but saw nothing.

"Who are you…?" she asked the surrounding emptiness.

"Ah, so she can't see us, but she can hear us."

"Obviously!"

It grew quiet. The silence rang painfully in her ears.

"Where are you?" she called out again, hoping that the mysterious people hadn't left her alone. Strangely, she didn't feel scared that she was hearing voices in the depths of an abyss. And she didn't think she was dead… Had she gone crazy?

"Her spiritual power… diminis—… tell her…" the voice was nearly incoherent, "…have to go."

"Power?" she inquired.

"Listen, Ori… sama. Hougyoku… Don't… Ulquiorra Cifer—"

"What about Ulquiorra? Who are you?"

"Don't trust Ulquiorra Cifer and the Hougyoku," the voice echoed loud and clearly into her ears, sending her straight into vertigo. She felt like her energy was being drained. Feeling more sleepy…

"We… go. Ori— can't last… without reiatsu," and their voices began to fade.

Orihime reached out into the darkness with outstretched hands, "Wait…!" she croaked weakly, "Did you save me?"

It was a while until she received a response, but the answer only confused her further.

"No… You saved yourself."

The voices were so quiet now, she was sure they were far away at this point. Quietly, she sat on the glowing platform and thought about what the voices were telling her while she regained her energy and strength to walk down the path.

'_Don't trust Ulquiorra Cifer_,' they said. She already knew that she shouldn't and yet…

When she felt like she had gathered enough energy, she stood up and looked ahead of her. The bridge seemed to go on for a while, but it was better than staying in the middle of the abyss. She took a step forward to the direction that she prayed would be an exit from this forsaken dimension.

…

Orihime walked on for about twenty minutes until she saw the end of the trail: another portal with the same shape as the previous one she fell into – or rather _pushed_ into. When she reached it, she stepped inside without hesitation, glad to have finally made it out of the abyss even if she was still trapped somewhere else.

Once she was safely inside, the portal snapped shut behind her with the same grating noise as before and she found herself amidst an enormous room. She gawked in wonder at her environment, feeling incredibly nonexistent, like a tiny spec amongst myriads of others. Surrounding her were walls of blinking gadgets of all different shapes and colors, the air was constantly active with the buzzing and beeping sounds coming from the contraptions. The walls stretched so high she couldn't see the ceiling and enormous computer monitors were scattered throughout the room. A particular corner of disorganized computers lay in shattered ruins, broken electric wires occasionally sparking.

Nearest to her were two large, glass tubes with a bubbling greenish-yellow substance swirling within. As she stepped closer to it, she could see silhouettes floating inside. They were bodies.

"I see you've found the spare key to manually open a Garganta to my lab."

Orihime squeaked in surprise at the newly introduced voice and turned around. _Everything is creeping up on me today…_

"Ah… S-Szayel-san, I can explain…!"

"I apologize for not being there even though I called you. Ulquiorra stormed into my lab at 2 o' clock in the morning to completely decimate my surveillance system before I could even check it out," he gestured to the dilapidated mess of metal in the corner, "I had to retrieve some supplies to repair it, but I'm afraid I won't be able to retrieve any of the former recordings. Now only God knows what he was desperate to hide from me. Knowing him, it must be something concerning you…"

Orihime hand twitched and she began to laugh nervously, '_Only God… and I know.'_ She blushed profusely and avoided his questioning gaze.

"Maybe I should strap you up to a table and probe at your brain a little for some answers?" his eyes twinkled menacingly. Orihime's eyes grew wide as saucers.

"_Juuuuust_ kidding," he tweeted, pleased at her discomfort. When he didn't remove his eyes from her, she began to wonder if he was angry at her for trespassing.

"I'm really sor—," she began, but he stopped her.

Szayel gave her his signature grin and readjusted his glasses up the bridge of his nose, "No need to apologize. My lab is my pride after all. It would do me some good to show it off every now and then."

Orihime exhaled in relief, ultimately glad that she had escaped punishment for being so nosy. He chuckled at her reaction and she gave him an ashamed expression.

"Though, I'm rather surprised you made it here. It takes a sort of… concentrated _spiritual power_ to fabricate a bridge in a Garganta," he stepped beside the bemused girl and gazed ahead of him into the fluid-filled tank she was looking at earlier.

"Szayel-san, if you don't mind me asking… who is that?"

"Oh that?" he chuckled again, his pearly-white fangs could be seen gleaming in the dim laboratory as he smiled, "That's my shit-for-brains, useless _twin, _Yylfordt Granz."

"You had a twin? I didn't know," Orihime replied. Squinting her eyes to focus on the form in the tube, she could recognize long, blonde hair flowing around him like a shield, his eyes closed peacefully. He did resemble Szayel a little, "Is he… alive?"

"Hmm. I suppose so. He's as alive as I am," he cackled at his own joke, but quickly stopped when met with her stoic expression. He cleared his throat, "_Dormant_ would be the proper word."

"He's sleeping," she confirmed. The scientist nodded. _Ah, that's good…_

"He's a part of me."

"Excuse me?" Orihime glanced at him.

"Yylfordt isn't exactly my twin. He is a portion of my soul that I molded to become a separate entity."

"Why is he asleep?"

He shrugged, "He got kind of annoying after a while. There's only so much of _my cloned personality_ that I can withstand. So now I just refer to him as a test subject."

Orihime frowned, "You test on your brot— twin?" _Like scalpels, test tubes, poking and prodding at his intestines?_

"I test on a part of _me,_" he corrected. Szayel's expression lit up as he read the thoughts that displayed in her large, gray eyes, "Yes. Yes, I do. The works and all."

She winced, _'That doesn't make it any more appropriate…! He is a mad scientist after all_…'

"And how about that girl?" she pointed.

Szayel turned to the tank to the left of Yylfordt. Orihime swore she saw the shadow of a grimace lingering at the corner of his lips, but said nothing.

"That… is Kurotsuchi Nemu."

"Why is she in there?" she asked before she could prevent her tongue.

He frowned at her question and Orihime offered him the option of ignoring her prying, but he waved her off, "She was my first love."

_Was…?_

"So even you can fall in love, huh Szayel-san?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," she teased and then smiled positively, "She's very pretty."

"She is."

Orihime gazed at her. The girl looked young, maybe her age if not a year or two older. Her long, black braided hair swayed gently along the current of the fluid inside the tube, her bust was large, but her body petite just like her hands. Her eyes were large like a doll's, but closed just like her slumbering partner next to her. She wore black garments similar to Ichigo's when he came to rescue her from Ulquiorra.

_A Shinigami? Why is she here…?_

"I'll tell you," Szayel glanced at her. _A human's curiosity is unwavering_, "I will tell you my past."

Orihime remained silent as he began to explain.

"Unlike the other Hollows here, I never lost the memories of my past life. Maybe it's my punishment for committing suicide. God, sure has his ways of torturing us, the misfits. I remember every detail, especially the ones concerning _her_," he motioned to the female in the tank.

"We were young and naïve, just like any other human. She and I were interns at a laboratory, working on our research. Spending that much time with a beautiful, smart girl like her, well, it was unavoidable that I would come to the question of '_what is love?_' I know the definition of it just as one would know the definition of happiness. But what _is_ love? Why does it hurt? Why does it make you yearn for more? For less? It was such a strange human emotion, it drove me insane."

"I wanted to know the answers. I knew it was the hormones and primal, animalistic instinct to reproduce, but no one said it was easy. I continued to guess at numbers and figures, pulling puzzles apart until my brain eroded into madness."

Szayel's grin stretched from ear to ear as he peered up at the suspended form in the liquid-filled glass tube. Orihime eyed the scientist curiously, the hairs on the back of her neck standing up as she watched his yellow eyes glisten with something strange. At first, Orihime thought he was shaking in fear, but then a noise emitted from his throat and escalated into maniacal laughter.

"She loved me too. We had our moments of bliss. I wasn't _that_ irrational to ignore my instincts like Ulquiorra tends to do. But I still had to know. I had to have this 'love' in my hands. I wanted to manipulate it, touch it, savor it forever. But as I looked at her, I knew it wouldn't last. It would vanish the second she died. Right? And if not, how? How could something so… _unreal_ pass the boundaries of time? This 'love' and 'affection' is a figment of one's imagination. A preference. But why did it affect me so? If it was that easy, then why was _she_ the only one that held the answers?"

"I grew angrier and angrier. Frustrated, I came to her asking questions she couldn't answer. And finally… I killed her. Even though I know it wouldn't be there, even though I _knew_ it was something unattainable, I ripped her body apart. Dissected every inch of skin, inoculated every milliliter of fluid into a petri disk," he began to laugh again, "It was beautiful."

"No, I didn't find the answer. I never will. But at that moment, I did feel truly _happy._"

Orihime took a step back, completely horrified. He had _murdered _her. He was human and he _dissected _her, "You're… mad" she whispered.

"Oh? Tell me something I don't know," he smirked, "Do you fear me now, human?"

Orihime gulped, but found herself shaking her head in response, "So… why is she here now?"

"It wasn't long after I killed her that I decided to commit suicide. Overwhelmed with emotions, I just couldn't handle it physically. I felt like I was being torn apart. It was agonizing. She was haunting me. And I just couldn't…" he paused, catching his breath, "She became a Shinigami while I became this monstrosity that I am now."

_Wait. If a human had to die in order to become a Shinigami, then how come Ichigo looked well alive to her? And Rukia, too? _Orihime decided to save her questions for later.

"It's funny though. I still loved her even past death just as I questioned. But how? This floating mass of tissue before me… I still love her I guess. Do I love her or the science of her? So I had to find her and keep her to myself… but I went too far."

"…what do you mean?"

"I was already a Hollow. The lowest of the low. I wasn't the sophisticated, beautiful man standing next to you today. I succumbed to my instincts. To devour her. I stole her heart. Both her human and Shinigami heart, but I didn't want to lose her again. Not without having the pleasure of experimenting and exploring her body once again. And as you know, once we take one's heart – or soul – their body disappears and no one will remember them. It applies to Shinigami too. Hence why she is submerged in this fluid I created to keep her in one piece."

The auburn haired girl stared at him wide-eyed and stunned.

"Ha!" he cackled, "I know. I'm crazy. But that's what Hollows are, dear. Most of us are feral and absolutely disgusting. You're lucky to have met only us, the more refined ones. Thanks to the Hougyoku. Oh, but you did encounter Numb Chandelier, yes? Ugly bitch that one is. Though most of them are. I wasn't of course."

Something was definitely off about Szayel compared to Nel. Nel had more… humanity in her. But Szayel… he was long gone even before he died.

"Szayel-san… do you _want _the curse to be lifted?"

"Heavens no. I quite enjoy having the excuse of being a Hollow to be a mad scientist. I can't exactly do what I love without being judged if I were human or a Shinigami."

She stared at him silently. _Poor Szayel-san is so lonely…_

"Ulquiorra may want to know what the 'heart' means, but not the same way I do. He isn't mad. Hell, I'm not even sure I made sense to you," he sighed, "Anyway, enough about me for once; I called you here to give you something."

"O-oh," Orihime stuttered, shaking herself from her reverie. It seemed like Szayel had no intention to harm her even though he had a few crazy moments just now.

The pink-haired scientist walked over to a table and retrieved something. He walked back to her and showed it to her. It looked to be a blue-green potion in a tiny vial. Orihime looked at him warily.

"Don't worry. I'm not going to experiment on you or whatever," he rolled his eyes, "I've already got a good amount of information from other humans. Besides, Ulquiorra would do more than just destroy my surveillance system if I so much as laid a finger on you and, no offense; I have more precious data collected here than your human body is worth."

Orihime took the flask and inspected it, "What is this?"

"I was wondering if you would like to participate in a little experiment with me?"

…

Orihime and Nel sat side by side at the dining table in Nel's room. Beads of all colors, strings and ribbons, and messy pools of craft paint were strewn across the table top. Orihime wiped her brow with her paint-smeared wrist, her tongue sticking out just a bit from between her lips as she painted her mask intensely.

Nel looked at her and laugh, "Orihime-chan, you have paint _all_ over your forehead."

"Oh, do I?" Orihime asked innocently. She began to rub her forehead vigorously, hoping to smudge the blotch into nonexistence, but completely failed and instead made it even worse, "Did I get it?"

"Yup…!" Nel smirked, careful to not break her composure. She wanted to watch Orihime walk around with a huge smudge on her forehead without a clue.

After another random stroke of yellow paint, Orihime set her mask down, and leaned back to look at it from afar. She sighed. Nel was also working on a mask for fun even though she wasn't planning to wear one for the ball so she also decided to put hers down when Orihime did and take a break.

"You don't like yours?" she asked Orihime.

Orihime's brow furrowed as she continued to stare at it, "No, I think it's… okay. Does it look kind of like a sunrise? Since you know, my dress is purple – which is like the night – my mask could be yellow-ish like the Sun!"

"That's a brilliant idea! And yes it does look like the Sun," Nel beamed. She looked at hers and frowned, "Mine looks like poop. I didn't know red and green makes brown!"

"I like it! It doesn't look like poop at all. It kind of looks like a robot grizzly bear with the way you put those beads there," she pointed.

"And that's good?"

"Yup!"

"Well, if you say so, Orihime-chan," Nel picked her mask up and positioned it over her eyes, "Do I look scary!"

Orihime faked a scream and they laughed together. When their fun had died down, Orihime didn't miss the fleeting expression of sadness that passed through her features, "…How are you and Nnoitra-san, Nel-san?" she guessed.

"Hmm?" the brown-eyed girl reached for a ribbon and tied it into a bow.

"You've been a little quiet today. Did you talk to Nnoitra-san?"

She nodded quietly as she reached for the glue. Nel honestly wasn't sure if she wanted to talk about it, but if it was Orihime, maybe she could loosen up a little, "He didn't say anything. I just left after he got his memories back."

_So now both Nel and Nnoitra remember their past life… but the curse is still there. Nel and Nnoitra are still Hollows! _ How was she supposed to get rid of a century old- no, a spell older than humankind? After her experience in the Garganta, though, she had regained her motivation. The spell was obviously much more complicated than she could imagine.

'_You're the only one we can trust to break the spell. So please…!' _she recalled Nel pleading to her that one night. Why did she look at her like she was her only hope?

"I hope you at least feel better after talking about it," she ended up saying despite all the questions bothering her.

"I do. A little. And I stopped having those awful symptoms," Nel placed a hand on her flat stomach, "I never expected that I was almost a mother!" she laughed half-heartedly, "Fate is so cruel."

"Don't say that," Orihime looked sternly at her, "Nnoitra-san is still at your side."

Nel groaned, "You make it sound like that's a _good_ thing."

"But you love him, don't you, Nel-san?"

She blushed, but didn't admit it aloud, "And what about you? Do you love Ulquiorra?"

Orihime grew flustered, tripping over words for a while until she found her voice, "I-I don't… know…?"

"Orihime-chan," she looked softly at her, "It's okay to move on. You are a strong, human girl. It's okay even if it's Ulquiorra we're talking about."

"It's so complicated… He has hurt people and now he plans to start a war with the Shinigami…"

"Are those words really coming from your heart, Orihime?"

"Nel…"

"You are strong. You're so strong, you are kind to others. You don't judge them, you don't hold grudges. You are so very kind, Orihime. You have already forgiven Ulquiorra, haven't you?"

An image of Ulquiorra flashed through her mind, the scene of her vow to rescue him, the memory of her heart being in his hands…

She trusted him. And he to her.

And with that realization, the chains of unrequited love snapped away from her wrists and ankles and dissolved away. But a question still lingered; did loving him make it any more acceptable? What would her best friend Tatsuki think? Ichigo? Rukia? The Shinigami… and the human lives his race threatens… She held the guillotine over the necks of her precious nakama. Just one slip up may cost their lives.

And those voices told her not to trust him. Undeniably, a part of her wanted to heed their advice, but…

"There won't be a war if you manage to break the spell," Nel reminded her, having watched her go through mental turmoil before her, "You'll still be faithful to your friends, move on from that strawberry-head, get your man, _and_ save lives!" she added on for encouragement. Orihime thought about it for a moment and sighed aloud.

"Well, when you say it like that, I feel really pumped!" she piped up, "But I feel like I'm not getting anywhere… and I only have two months left. I'm so useless when it comes to these things," she gave a weak smile, "I'm so sorry you can't fully depend on me."

Nel felt guilty for putting so much on her shoulders, but she couldn't pamper her now. It wasn't an easy topic. It was going to be a hard task with difficult decisions to make, "There's something about you that Ulquiorra really adores. It's not your cheerful attitude or your pure heart. Although he claims that your purity is all that he is after, it's obviously not. Purity isn't something he can take and he knows that. He would tarnish you in a blink of an eye and it's ruining him from inside. _Changing_ him. Do you see where I'm getting at?"

"…no," Orihime frowned.

"You have the power to _reject_ his fate. And at the same time, ours too," Nel turned back to her mask and began to work on it again, "Without being aware of it, it is you who has power, Orihime."

"Power…," she echoed, "Ulquiorra did mention I had potential inside me."

"See? Just believe in yourself more!" They looked at each other quietly for a while until Nel spoke again, "So tomorrow is Christmas. Do you have anything special for Ulquiorra?"

"Oh gosh you're right!" _Christmas_. "I never thought about it until now… How stupid of me. It would help to have a calendar or at least a clock around here… What should I do…"

She looked at Nel for advice, but the girl only shrugged. Orihime pondered for a while as she continued to work on her mask and a brilliant idea came to her. She retrieved a sheet of paper, some crayons, and colored pencils and began to draw. Curiously, Nel leaned over to inspect on her new project, "Whatcha doin'?"

"I'm drawing a picture of me and Ulquiorra! There doesn't seem to be any portraits of him anywhere in Las Noches except the one in his room, but it was torn to shreds. So I figured I would make one for him!"

"Eh? Last time I checked, he wasn't a _smiling _robot."

"It's all about the _message_, Nel-san!" Orihime giggled mischievously, "You see, he's like a cursed robot on Earth and he fell in love with a girl, but the aliens are threatening their happiness!"

"Ah, I see now! Draw me one too!"

Out of nowhere, the two girls heard a crescendo of stomping coming towards their doorway and in almost no time, they were startled to see Nnoitra walk in with his usual scowl in place.

"Oi'," he looked at Orihime after giving Nel a glance, "Ulquiorra's callin' ya for yer date."

"Okay, I'll be there. Let me just—"

"An' you have a lil paint on your forehead."

"What?" she shot Nel a look. She dodged her glare and whistled innocently.

"Nnoitra! Nnoitra! Look what I made for you to hide your ugly face from the humans at the ball tomorrow!" she grabbed her mask and hopped over to him, showing it off with pride and a taunting smile.

"Eh? What is that? It looks like shit."

"Of course someone as unrefined as you wouldn't see the _true_ art in this masterpiece," she jeered, "You must be missing more than an eye under that eye patch, huh? Part of your brain too, maybe?"

"You bitch…" he glowered, "And what about you? Obviously you've got a fissure in yours underneath that mask!"

Nnoitra normally towered over her, but he had bent over slightly to glare at her at eye level.

"How beastly. You amuse me," she mocked and then sang, "No more singing for you then."

Nnoitra stepped back hesitantly, his eyes narrowing with a conspicuous blush staining his cheeks before he was able to retort, "You tryin' a pick a fight, Nelliel?!"

Meanwhile in the background, Orihime gathered her things and cleaned up a little after herself. She thought giddily how the couple may just mess up the room due to a certain activity when she leaves anyway. Nel and Nnoitra continued to bicker not-so-quietly, not noticing that Orihime had passed them and slipped away.

The sexual frustration between those two was so thick, it was suffocating her! But she figured they needed their alone time. They had just found out what they meant to each other.

'_I'm jealous_.'

What could she have done for a relationship like that with Ichigo? To come to an understanding without speaking words, to be able to express things and emotions without worry… like Rukia.

Orihime was absolutely dreading having to walk through that battlefield of a hallway to Ulquiorra's room. The images of crushed and broken angelic faces haunted her. The stone-cold gargoyles with their menacing, fanged expressions still sent shivers down her spine just thinking of it. She decided she would hurry through it and maybe sing a song aloud to distract herself.

But first she had to get rid of this paint on her head and change into something appropriate for a dinner date.

…

Orihime arrived at his door panting, patting down the frenzied mess of her hair. She ended up running through the never-changing hallway, determined to not have the ruins damper her spirits.

It was her night with Ulquiorra.

She let her thoughts drift off to how Ulquiorra's homemade cooking would taste and the many ways this night could end. And being the young, adolescent girl she was, she ended up thinking of a particular possibility.

Sex?

Orihime's face lit up like a ripe tomato and she had to pinch herself to get rid of the fantasies flooding her mind.

Having gathered her wits, she raised her hand and rapped on the large, oak doors. Though, as soon as her knuckles touched the wood, the doors flung open with such vigor that the old hinges had no time to creak or groan from the sudden movement.

Holding the door open for her was Ulquiorra. He peered at her with the same bright, green eyes that were partially obscured by the shadow of his mask, "Come in."

She did as she was told and marveled at how much the room had changed since she had last visited. Not a speck of dust could be seen; the carpet had been replaced, the tapestry and bed beautiful in all its crimson glory, and the table beneath the crystal chandelier flourished in the light it showered upon it.

Orihime turned to Ulquiorra with a beautiful smile, touched at the amount of effort he had put in for this night, "It looks wonderful." _And so do you_, she found herself thinking after taking a second look at him.

He was wearing a suit and jacket, nothing much different from the formal attire she had grown accustomed to him wearing, but it looked… fancier? She decided that red ties looked absolutely best on him.

Ulquiorra didn't say anything in response to her compliment, but she could see a flicker of pride pass through his viridian eyes, "Sit."

He did have to work on his speech though.

Was he as nervous as she was? Orihime envied his cool composure.

Ulquiorra followed her to a chair, pulled it out for her, and pushed her in as soon as she was comfortably seated. He walked to the other side of the table and sat down without another word. Orihime continued to look at him in awe, still amazed at the grace in his manners.

After Ulquiorra's consent and unraveling of the dishes, Orihime dug in. The food tasted a little bland to her, but it seemed like something Ulquiorra would create. It was bland, but not necessarily bad. The texture was perfect and it wasn't too salty or sweet or dry. There seemed to be an awful lot of tomatoes though…, "Did you really make this, Ulquiorra? Mmm, it's really delicious!"

Ulquiorra pushed some green beans around in his plate with a fork before looking up into her eyes, "How predictable for you to lie, onna."

Ulquiorra was quiet, observing her. That this girl could harbor feelings of fondness for him was incomprehensible, but it thoroughly intrigued him. Why did would this woman bother with the white lies to avoid hurting his 'feelings'. Or better yet, to make him 'feel' better. It was irrational.

"H-huh?" she gave him a blank stare. Was she that easy to read?

Ulquiorra silently pushed his chair back and went into another room connected to his.

Orihime began to freak out. Was he mad at her? She didn't mean to sound so fake. Oh, he's definitely mad at her. Maybe she should have elaborated…

Not long after these pessimistic thoughts, Ulquiorra emerged from the room with a few things in his gloved hand and set it down in front of her on the table.

Chocolate syrup, spicy mayo, and wasabi.

Silver eyes gawped at him with tears of happiness in the corners, "T-thank you," she babbled and began to use the new ingredients to spice up her meal. Ulquiorra sighed, watching her enjoy her food with more fervor than before, but Orihime could see the shadow of a smile tugging at his lips.

The woman was too easy to please. Even though he had deceived her over a month ago, she had placed all of her trust on him. How foolish of her to garner affection towards a beast. No written manual was needed to educate him on how to handle her. But realization dawned on him.

He had seen the girl laugh and smile just as she is doing now with her friends. And through strict observation, Ulquiorra had come to know that her reactions are only instinctual to what she called 'the heart'. Her interactions with them were false. The purpose was to avoid being questioned about her well-being. A sacrifice for what? Maintaining their trust and friendship? It hardly seemed like the correct solution.

Were their hearts really one as she had told him?

But in contrast to that, her definition of 'the heart' was what made her a strong woman.

The miscommunication between her and the orange-haired Shinigami, Kurosaki Ichigo, was especially atrocious.

And yet, he was the only one who was capable of evoking anger and lust hidden deep beneath her soul. He could read her now; unlike her friends, Ulquiorra had eyes only for _her_. He was aware of her pink-tinged cheeks, her bashful eyes, and averted gazes whenever he directly spoke to her. Even her petty, white lies and slender fingertips which trembled and twitched whenever she was unable to express herself. He was fully aware of _her_. Always had been.

So Ulquiorra had nothing to fear when it came to the woman.

"Ulquiorra, you haven't touched your food!"

"I'm not hungry," he replied.

"Mmm, that's not how dinner dates go!" she pouted.

Ulquiorra stared at her expressionlessly, then down at his plate of food, and began to eat somewhat slowly. Orihime was grinning the entire time she ate and until she finished. Content and rubbing her full stomach, she leaned back in her seat and sighed happily.

"Ah… that was great. I would love to have your cooking again sometime," her eyes crinkled as she smiled at him and Ulquiorra nearly felt like melting in his seat.

The girl didn't have very refined manners at the table, but her manners were adorable nonetheless. If anything, he felt more obliged to keep her smiling at him the same way she was now. He wouldn't want to change anything about her.

"You may sit at the living area if you wish while I clear the table."

"Oh no, let me help you!" Orihime stood up and picked up her empty plate. Ulquiorra opened his mouth to protest, but she puffed up her cheeks, "This is the least I can do for you since you invited me."

Ulquiorra sealed his lips and looked away, "Do as you like."

She followed Ulquiorra into the room at the back which turned out to be a small kitchen with a miniature refrigerator, a microwave, and two stovetops. And of course a Japanese kitchen wouldn't be complete without a rice cooker.

Orihime hummed a song quietly to herself as she gently placed the chinaware into the sink. She switched the faucet on and, to Ulquiorra's bewilderment, began to wash the dishes. Baffled at her behavior, he stared at her. Ulquiorra had been raised with etiquette of the highest degree so he wasn't accustomed to the Asian tradition in which the guests washed the dishes or helped around with the after-dinner chores.

But something about watching her leaning over his sink to wash their dishes, soap and water splashing onto her forearms and her nice dress, made his chest ache. This scene of her humming happily and contently to herself, her hips swaying to the unheard beat, so unaware of her surroundings… She was like his beautiful wife.

Ulquiorra spun around, away from her to conceal his heated cheeks.

'_What is the matter with me?_' he questioned himself.

With efficient teamwork – Ulquiorra drying the dishes and placing them in their appropriate cabinets after Orihime thoroughly rinsed them – they finished in no time. They now sat in the living area across each other. Orihime glowed brightly in her seat; her head still swiveling around excited to examine the newly furnished room. Everything had changed so much and after cleaning up, the room looked so much larger. Like an expensive apartment. Las Noches was amazing.

But she was having a difficult time trying to figure out how to start a conversation with the melancholic boy.

Should she tell Ulquiorra what Loly had done to her earlier? Judging by her hateful words, Loly definitely intended to kill her by trapping her in the Garganta.

No. Whatever happens between Loly and her doesn't concern Ulquiorra or anyone else. It was an issue she had to settle with her alone. She didn't want anyone else to get involved and she didn't want to depend on anyone for such a miniscule issue.

"I wish I knew what time it was," she said aloud to herself.

Ulquiorra, who had been watching her like he usually did, raised his eyebrows quizzically, "Why do you care for something as trivial and illusionary as time?"

"Well," she puffed her cheeks up at him, "It _is_ Christmas Eve. How am I supposed to know when it strikes midnight?"

"You are Christian?" he inquired.

"Ah… no. But I think it's a lovely holiday! Hmm, since I don't know when it will be Christmas, I'll go ahead and give you your present," Orihime dug into her small purse and pulled out the project she was working on earlier. She straightened it out, making sure to remove every wrinkle.

"A gift?"

"It's tradition to give gifts to people who you care about on Christmas Day," she laughed nervously and placed a hand on the back of her head, "But I don't really know how the story goes. All I know is that Christians celebrate Christmas this way… eheh… Here!"

Ulquiorra leaned over and retrieved it from her. It was a drawing of what _seemed_ to be a robot-version of him (why was his hair blue?) and Orihime next to him. They were both smiling; the dark-haired boy giving a flower to the innocent girl, completely oblivious to everything else. Though, what seemed even more unordinary was the mass of UFOs occupying the sky and shooting laser beams at the buildings in the background. Ulquiorra sweat-dropped.

"I accidentally broke the black colored pencil and I couldn't find the black crayon either!" After Ulquiorra didn't respond after staring at it for so long, she wilted, "…You don't… like it?"

"It's interesting," he muttered, "Wait here."

He went into a closet next to his bed and shuffled around with some stuff. He returned with her drawing inside a beautiful photo frame. Orihime face glowed even brighter at him, twittering at how delighted she is that he likes her drawing while he placed it on the nightstand next to his bed. She got off the sofa and walked over to him.

At this point, Orihime could read Ulquiorra's stoic expressions. He may have difficulty expressing gratitude – or really any emotion – but his actions were plenty enough proof. She appreciated that about him. Maybe she was also imagining things, but his cheeks were a little colored and his eyes were brighter than usual. Well he _is_ a rather pale boy. Was he sick?

"I guess I should be going now?" She wanted to stay a while longer and talk to him, but lack of cooperation was preventing her from keeping any conversations going.

Ulquiorra looked at her, his frown deepening, "I don't have a gift for you, but whatever you ask, I will give it to you."

"No that's alright!" she laughed heartily at his sincerity, "You have given me more than I could ever ask for Ulquiorra. I feel truly indebted to you." _You saved my life._

His gaze softened as she said this, his eyes drawn to her plump lips as she spoke. Orihime noticed that he was distracted and her cheeks burned intensely. She was suddenly extremely self-conscious of herself whenever he looked at her with his smoldering, emerald eyes. Was there food on her mouth?

Embarrassed, Orihime turned around and began to rub her mouth vigorously with the back of her hand. She flinched in shock when she felt arms, slip under hers and encircle her waist.

"I can make you feel good," he breathed huskily into her ear from behind.

"Good?" she squeaked nervously. She felt his embrace tighten and she felt like she was going to melt from the pace her heart was beating. Her legs felt like jelly and she nearly collapsed into his arms.

Ulquiorra pulled his hand back and held her chin delicately. He tilted her head back just enough for him to be able to kiss her. Orihime leaned back into his chest and returned the gesture, her hands finding their way to hold his.

She was actually planning to kiss him on the cheek before she left as a parting gift, but it seemed everything worked out fine in the end. She didn't have to go through turning into a bundle of nerves, trying to figure out how to initiate such a bold, uncharacteristic move, though she ended up being a bundle of nerves kissing him back so passionately anyway. After their first kiss, it only seemed natural to do it again. There was less hesitation, less nervousness. Even Orihime's tongue fought on par against his, well-armed with enough experience from last night.

Inoue Orihime was an addiction. _His_ addiction. It couldn't be any less painful being with her like this, basking in the glow of her pure heart and relishing in her sweet scent. He parted his lips and let his breath roll down the nape of her neck, causing the small hairs to rise in alarm. Ulquiorra felt her twitch in his arms at the tickling sensation and murmur his name quietly.

One thing led to another and Orihime fell onto his bed, still wrapped up in his arms and affection. Ulquiorra unwrapped his arms from around her waist to remove his jacket, causing her to groan from the lack of warmth. Impatiently, she stretched out a hand, gripped his tie, and tugged him down to kiss him again. Ulquiorra's eyes grew wide, his heart hammering in his chest in disbelief at her sudden arousal and demand.

Orihime moaned softly into his mouth and pressed further into his chest, closing any gaps between their bodies. Adolescent and submerged in the heated moment, both of Ulquiorra's hands ran down the length of her thigh and slipped underneath her dress, resting just below her rear. Orihime's face grew intolerably hot at his wanton touch. Ulquiorra pulled her into him and propped her legs higher so he could lean in to kiss her exposed neck. She whimpered weakly into his dark hair as the sucking sensation sent waves of pleasure down her spine.

"Ulquiorra," she gasped and moaned incessantly, clutching his ebony hair as he covered her milky skin with bright-red markings.

His gloved hands slid further up the side of her thigh, startling her when he tugged at her underwear. Ulquiorra lifted his head from her breastbone to look at her in the eyes, asking her for permission. Orihime bit down on her swollen bottom lip and nodded, her silver eyes were cloudy and her cheeks flush with lust. Without hesitation, he pulled down her underwear, past her ankles, and placed it on the nightstand. He kissed her lips again as he took off his gloves and began to ravish her skin with his bare touch.

Orihime moaned loudly into his mouth at his cool fingertips. His caresses were soft and gentle, loving and careful. His movements weren't as rough as they were when he first touched her. He was wary of her, judging her reactions, watching her expressions through half-lidded eyes.

How could he label this emotion? An emotion he had never felt throughout his entire existence, a sensation he had abandoned so long ago in order to build up the shield of nihility to protect his raw heart. A shield in which Orihime had broken the moment she placed her hands in his and waltzed with him.

Ulquiorra shifted back slightly and pulled at the top of her strapless dress with his fangs. His instincts were threatening to consume him, but he had adjusted to the girl enough to control himself. He wanted nothing more than to maintain her purity and keep her alive. He managed to free her breasts from her dress without using any hands and he began to nibble on the hard nub hidden beneath her thin bra.

Sensing his urgency and wanting more, Orihime reached behind her and unclasped her bra, tossing it to the side. She threw her head back, gasping his name as he enveloped her aroused nipple with his lips.

"U-Ulquiorra… not too much," she panted. He was sucking too hard; his fangs teasing her tender skin like sharp knives.

Ulquiorra tasted her sweet, silky skin as his tongue gently massaged her large breast. His lithe fingertips stroked her inner thighs from behind her knee and down to her rear repeatedly. Ever so lightly, he pressed his fingers so close to her core, he had her pleading for him within seconds. Orihime hands slid down from his hair, down his neck, and placed them on his shoulders. Her breath hitched in her throat as he slid a finger past her feminine folds. She pressed her fingernails into his shoulder, biting the fabric down and creating crescent-shaped welts into his skin underneath.

He nearly groaned the moment he felt her soaking, wet walls. He clamped his fangs down on his tongue to stifle the noise growling in his throat as he measured the tightness of her core with his middle finger. The smell of her sex grew stronger within the minute and heightened both their arousals.

"Ahhnn… _Ulquiorra_," she purred.

Ulquiorra lifted his head to watch her reaction, admiring the way her eyelids would flutter whenever he slowly pulled his finger back and swiftly pushed it back in her core. She breathed shakily, looking into his calculating viridian eyes. His finger picked up an even pace, going in and out, touching the slick walls of her femininity and creating delicious friction. Orihime moaned his name sweetly through slightly parted lips and began to breathe unevenly with his pumping finger. Still watching her, he pressed his thumb on her clit and slipped in a second digit. She whimpered as the pressure increased inside of her and his pace grew rapid and unwavering.

"Ulquiorra…!" she panted again and cut off their intense gaze by shutting her eyes. He silenced her labored breathing by pressing his lips against hers and licking her lips.

Her hands clutched his shirt as he pumped his fingers in and out of her relentlessly. He swiveled and curled his fingers inside her, soaking his entire hand in her juices and feeling her walls vibrate for release around him.

Just when he had felt her walls clamp down on him, he pulled out, got on his knees, and began to suck on her clit. She cried out his name in shock, throwing her hands out to comb her slender fingers through his raven-black hair. With his fingers, he parted her folds and sank his tongue inside to taste her. He shifted over to tease her clit with his teeth and tongue as he continued to pump his fingers into her.

Orihime clamped both of her hands on her mouth to stifle her screaming, completely overwhelmed by the sensation. Finally, she came, crying his name even louder into her hands as her walls completely prevented him from moving inside her. Ulquiorra continued to lap at her sex as she came down from ecstasy, swallowing her essence eagerly. Her inner thighs were coated with a slick layer of liquid and dripped all the way down to her ankles.

Ulquiorra climbed on top of her, his eyes hovering just above her clouded ones. The girl beneath him smiled weakly, raised her hands slowly, and touched the mask that partially hid his eyes. Orihime lay under him in a mess, completely nude except for her dress which was bundled around her waist. She would have preferred it off, but Orihime let Ulquiorra do what he wanted during the heated moment.

In return to her tender touch, he placed a hand on top of hers and used the other to prop himself up. She closed her eyes and sighed contently, the embarrassment of her nudity forgotten long before.

"Happy Christmas," he muttered, causing her to snap her eyes back open and laugh gleefully at his attempted blessing. His eyebrows knit together in slight irritation, "Why do you laugh at me?"

"It's _Merry_ Christmas," she laughed again, shutting her eyes, and slowly succumbed to her exhaustion, whispering,

"Merry Christmas, Ulquiorra."

...

* * *

**Next Chapter preview**:

_"Orihime pranced into the ballroom, nostalgia hitting her like ocean waves. Strangers hid behind masks of all different styles and shades. The air was buzzing with laughter and conversation and the clinking wine bottlenecks against glass. Glancing around as she dodged numerous dancing couples to reach her destination, she noticed several people were actually not dressed in formal attire, but were wearing the traditional garbs of Shinigami."'_

**The next letter is "M"!  
Now remember, the answer is a lot easier than you think.  
**

**Please leave a review and tell me what you think of this chapter! Did you like the "lime" scene at the end? Disgusted by it? Opinions!**


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